Crescent Moon
by Ringshadow
Summary: Not everyone needs planes to be heroes. This is StarFox, but different, set in the middle ages, a time of lords and ladies, of honor and battles unmatched.
1. Default Chapter

Crescent Moon

Section One: The Woodsman

            The woods weren't quiet, of course.

            Though the hunter, crouched among ferns and brush, supposed they were to city dwellers.

            He slowly let out a breath, watching the doe lower her head to graze, walking forward as she did. He slowly swung his bow around and reached back, drawing an arrow from his quiver and aiming, pulling back on the cord. The doe paused, tensing, then continued to graze.

            Just as the hunter was about to release the arrow, a horrendous clatter from the not-to-far-away little-used road startled the doe into bolting. With a sigh, the hunter stood, replacing the arrow. Just as well, he had gotten a rabbit today already; it would probably press his luck to hunt more today. He'd try for a deer tomorrow.

            He went back to his horse, which was tied a good distance away, tail waving back and forth. His horse, a mellow brown mare of undeterminable breed, looked up when he appeared and nickered softly. He patted the mare's neck and swung into the saddle after untying the reins, easily maneuvering through the woods to his cabin.

            When his horse stepped into the clearing, he observed an ornate carriage drawn by a pair of white horses in front of his cabin, along with what appeared to be a mounted guard. The apparent leader of the guard was talking to someone inside the carriage.

            "Appears to be empty, your Ladyship…"

            "May I be of some assistance?" The hunter directed his mare so they stood between the convoy and the cabin.

            "Are you the owner of this residence?" The lead guard turned his horse, eyes narrowed.

            "Yes. I live here alone."

            "Where is the nearest lodging from here?"

            The hunter glanced at the waning sunlight, and replied, "The nearest town is at least a half-day's ride from here, good sir. I would offer you lodging here, but I doubt very much it is to your preference." 

            The head guard, a middle-aged hound, studied the hunter. A young fox with startlingly blue eyes, dressed in worn but clean breeches and a tied tunic. A bow and quiver hung off his back, and the guard also noticed a rabbit tied to the back of the simple saddle. "I'm afraid we might have to accept your offer. It is either that, or camp for the night."

            A feminine voice spoke up from inside the carriage, too muffled for the hunter to understand clearly, and the guard sighed, turning his horse to talk through a slightly opened curtain. After a moment, he turned his horse back. "Looks like we'll have to take the cabin for our Ladyship, at least."

            "Only proper. Unfortunately, my pantry is almost empty. I fear I don't have enough food for your convoy." He sighed, checking his quiver again. "Make yourselves comfortable, I'll see what I can do about food." He turned his mare to reenter the woods.

            "Grey." The guard looked at one of his other men. "Accompany him."

            "Sir." The beagle nudged his gelding forward to pace the fox's mare.

            "That isn't necessary." The fox said simply, turning to look at the head guard.

            "I insist."

            With a sigh, the fox nudged his mare into a canter, weaving easily through the trees. "Pace me. You'll easily get lost…"

            "It is quite kind of you to give up your cabin for our Ladyship…" Attempted the young guard.

            "Only proper." He repeated, pulling up his mare and dismounting. "You're a royal guard?"

            "Yes." Grey imitated the fox. "I would appreciate your title."

            There was a hesitation, then, "I have no title. My name is McCloud." He tied both horses. "Stay here."

            "I was ordered to accompany you."

            Fox gave him a droll look. "You'll scare away dinner if you do, no matter how quiet you try to be." And with that, he slid off into the woods, disappearing in seconds.

            The head guard, Charles Pepper, looked around the cabin. It wasn't quite what he expected, somehow. For one, it seemed to be divided into three rooms—a main room, a small storage room were some skins were being stretched and others stored, and a bedroom. Also, instead of having a packed dirt floor, river stone had been brought in and tamped so the main room and bedroom had stone flooring. Besides that, the cabin was simply arranged and furnished. It seemed their host had little need for most luxuries.

            "Is it suitable for your Ladyship?" Pepper asked, looking at the eldest of the three ladies in waiting.

            "I would prefer our Lordship's house, but it will do." She replied stiffly.

            He bowed his head and left.

            The princess herself got out of the carriage and entered the cabin, taking a look around with mild curiosity. It wasn't quite what she had been expecting. Noting what appeared to be a large leather-bound book, she walked forward and undid the closed buckle, opening it.

            "Your Ladyship, I doubt that…" The head of the ladies in waiting protested.

            "Our host can read and write." She replied simply, closing and latching the book, and looking around. "Is that usual for a simple woodsman?"

            The lady in waiting, a middle-aged chaperone named Marie, snorted. "No, but you also can not be sure that it is his handwriting in the book."

            The princess nodded once. Actually, she would have been happy if she had seen who exactly their host was, but Marie had prevented it. She was used to it.

            Not long after that, McCloud reentered the clearing, Bill following. A midsized doe was tied behind McCloud's saddle.

            "A good hunt, eh?" Asked Pepper.

            "Yes." Fox McCloud dismounted easily, and noticing that the other horses were tied to a tree nearby, untied them and led the whole party's horses as well as his own behind the house.

            Pepper followed after a moment, and found that McCloud was taking the tack off the several horses, which fell to grazing easily in the makeshift corral. Apparently not noticing he was being watched, McCloud disappeared into the forest with a yoke across his shoulders, and came back with two buckets full of water, which he dumped into a wooden trough.

            "You have been very hospitable to us." Pepper finally said as he watched McCloud dress the deer.

            The young fox looked up, not surprised at all by the guard's presence—he had known all along that the guard had been there. "Only the proper thing to do, sir. Besides, I'm glad for the company. I am alone the greater part of the year."

            "A trapper, then?"

            "Yes."

            "Forgive me, but where are your parents?"

            There was a pause as the young fox finished and carried the deer out to the cooking fire the rest of the guards had ready. He came back, rinsed the blood from his hands in the remainder of water in bucket, and tossed the water out. "They are dead."

            "Forgive me for asking, then." Pepper lowered his head.

            "No, you were in your right. It is your duty to protect your Ladyship, so it is only proper to make sure I am honorable." He paused. "If I am to camp with your guards this night, my bedroll is inside."

            "I'm sure the Ladies won't mind if you go in and fetch it. It is your house after all, you are entitled."

            Fox hesitated, then nodded and went around the house to do so.

            "Plain, but serviceable." Marie finally said, looking around at the cabin. The princess, one Fara Phoenix, sat in one of the two carved wooden chairs, watching her ladies investigate the cabin.

            "This cabinet is locked." Remarked one of the other two ladies.

            "And I prefer it stay that way." Remarked a new voice.

            They all turned, and saw the lean figure of their host. He regarded them, then executed a bow like a lord. "Forgive me for startling you, Ladies. I'm quite aware I shouldn't be here. I will be gone in just a moment." He straightened and quietly brushed by them, boots clicking on the stone floor, going to the bedroom and coming out with a bedroll tucked under his arm. "But I am quite serious about that cabinet. It need not concern you." He left, closing the door behind him.

            "Well!" Marie put her hands on her hips.

            "Seems polite to me." Fara said simply, glancing at Marie. Actually, she had approved of their host, especially when he had bowed.

            "You didn't have to allow us to stay with you, you know." Remarked a guard.

            Fox had knelt next to the fire, tail tip just barely twitching. He looked at the guard. "It was the right thing to do. Gave your lady some shelter for the night, it would be hardly right for her to be without such…"

            "Do you have a code you are following?" Pepper suddenly looked up from the fire to Fox.

            Several of the guards laughed a bit. "Sir, he's just a woodsman…" Started one, snickering to himself.

            "Yes I do, sir." Fox said, slowly looking up.

            They all blinked, stunned.

            "What do you follow, then?" Pepper asked.

            He didn't answer for a moment, just bowed his head, then suddenly said, "I follow Bushido, sir."

            "You follow WHAT?" Said several of the guards together.

            "It's an oriental code of honor." The look Pepper gave Fox was now extremely respectful. "How did you learn that, young man?"

            "My father taught me." He stood and stretched slowly.

            The guards glanced at each other and didn't ask anything else, noting something in their host's manner that prevented them from asking.

            Pepper woke up late that night and sat up. The fire had died down to faint embers. He rubbed his eyes wearily with one hand, and reached out his other automatically to touch his weapons. His fingers glanced over his crossbow, but when it reached his sword, there was nothing there. He woke up fully, startled, and looked down. The grass was pressed down from where the broadsword had been, but it wasn't there. Then he heard the dull, soft thumps of feet hitting on the ground, and stood. He followed the sound away from the camp, through a few yards of trees, and to a small clearing.

            He stopped before he entered it. There was his host, shirtless, effortlessly working with his missing sword. He worked with the touch of one trained, muscles flexing easily, working both two-handed and one-handed, going through moves both familiar and exotic to Pepper. After a moment, he stopped, back turned to Pepper, then turned on heel and bowed to Pepper, arms out, holding out the sword on his palms to the owner. Pepper stepped forward and took the blade.

            "I apologize. I wouldn't have taken yours, but I wasn't able to get to my own, and I was fully planning on returning it with no damage, or perhaps sharper once I take my sharpening equipment to it."

            "Your father taught you… to use swords, yes? Where did he learn?"

            Fox retied his tunic, and was silent.

            "I asked you a question young man."

            "I mean no disrespect. I just don't wish to say anything." He said softly.

            Pepper stepped back, arms crossed. "Hmmm. Any reason why?"

            Silence, then, "Yes. And I don't wish to talk about it." He gave a respectful bow and left the clearing, returning to the cabin.

            Thok. Thok. Thok.

            "What is that?" Bill asked around a yawn.

            His question was answered when their host came around the cabin, carrying a load of firewood in his arms. He crouched and rebuilt the fire to a cooking fire, and sharp sizzling sounds cut the air as he put bacon on a grill he had arranged over it.

            "And you're cooking for us as well?" Pepper asked.

            "Well, you are my guests." He replied, shrugging. Looking at Pepper out of the corner of his eye, he remarked, "You aren't just head guard, are you?"

            "That's what I'm serving as right now, but in actuality, it's not really what I am." He admitted, getting up and waking up the rest of the guards.

            "I could tell by your manner. You don't act like a guard." 

            "And you know enough about them to judge that?"

            Fox gave him an amused look. "You knew what Bushido was, sir."

            "Ah…"

            Letting one of the guards take over the cooking, he stood, and went around the cabin to where the horses were, patting necks in turn and getting out a set of currycombs, murmuring to calm the higher-strung city horses.

            Fara woke up and looked around. Her ladies in waiting were still fast asleep. She could smell food being cooked outside, but wasn't yet hungry herself. She got up, smoothing her skirts, and curiously investigated the cabin for herself. Leaning into the apparent storage room, she noticed another door, and after glancing over her shoulder, stepped onto the dirt floor and eased the bar up on the door.

            Peeking out, she saw that it led to the back yard of the cabin. The horses were there in a makeshift corral, and her host was busily currycombing one, back turned to her. She slipped out the door and quietly closed it, watching her host.

            "Don't think I didn't hear you." Fox remarked quietly over his shoulder.

            "I was being as quiet as I could." She replied, abashed.

            "It's nothing you were really aware of, your Highness. Your breathing, the rustle of your skirts." He shrugged, back still turned to her. "Because I live a life in the forest and the quiet, I have very sharp hearing. I have to. I'm a tracker."

            "Seems to me you have multiple talents."

            "I'm flattered." He circled around the horse and started in on the other side.

            She stepped forward and looked over the horse's back at him. He didn't meet her eyes. "Pardon me for saying, you seem very, well, honorable for a simple woodsman."

            He lifted his gaze to hers. "There's nothing simple about me, your Highness."

            She blinked, surprised. Instead of eyes of gold, his eyes were blue, with a very disciplined gaze. "Somehow that's what I thought." She rubbed her chin, stepping around the horse so she could see him better. "My name is Fara Phoenix."

            He still held her gaze. "Mine is Fox McCloud." The horse snorted and shifted, but at his coaxing stood still long enough for him to finish the basic brushing.

            "Your Highness!"

            Fara sighed, twisting to face Marie. "Yes?"

            "What are you doing outside?!"

            She didn't answer, instead looked back at Fox, meeting his gaze again.

            Marie had seen all she needed to. She bustled forward and drew Fara back. "Come back inside the cabin, dear." She said firmly, glaring at Fox.

            "I don't think you have anything to worry about as far as Sir McCloud is concerned." Fara growled as she was escorted around the cabin towards the front door. "He's as honorable as most knights are."

            "Madam?" Fox suddenly said, causing Marie to turn and look at him. "She is quite right. I do have a code I follow. Your Highness was in no danger." He turned back and continued what he was doing.

            "We appreciate your hospitality, sir McCloud." Pepper leaned his hands on his saddle, holding the reins lightly.

            Fox bowed fully, eyes lowered. "It was the least I could do, kind sirs."

            "We could reward you…"

            "No, no such is needed. Your company was enough, good sirs." He straightened.

            Pepper smiled. "We were honored to stay here, sir McCloud."

            "I am no sir, I am just a woodsman."

            "As you will." Pepper smiled, and urged his horse forward, leading the convoy away.

            A week later, Fox rode to the town, carrying a small load of hides. Really summer was the slow time for him, because winter was best for pelts, but summer was still good for leather.

            The town was busier then usual, and a large crowd had gathered in the town square, apparently waiting for something. Fox slowed his horse and looked around. After a moment, he rode over to the tanner's, deciding to deal with business first.

            When he came out half an hour later, his moneybags significantly heavier, the crowds were still waiting. He untied his horse and walked through town, watching. After a moment, he walked over to a middle-aged hare whom was standing watching the events. "Pardon me, good sir, but would you be so kind as to tell me what's going on?"

            "King's making an announcement today. There's a war starting in the west." Was the reply.

            "Thank you, kind sir." Fox nodded respectively, then went to the back of the crowd and remounted so he could see better.

            The hare stared after him, frowning. He had recognized the fox, but he wasn't sure if he was right. He kept half an eye on the young man, crossing his arms over the ornate vest he wore and waiting.

            Moments later, the king appeared on the balcony, accompanied by the queen and princess Fara. Fox felt himself smile a little. Fara looked bored, scanning the crowd.

            Even over the distance, their eyes met. Fara smiled a little, looking him right in the eyes. He returned the gaze, then bowed his head respectively.

            "Good citizens." The king began, and the crowd fell silent.

            Fox listened, leaning forward on his saddle. It seemed that the neighboring country, ruled by the Dictator Andross, had started invading the borders of their kingdom. When the crowd muttered and shifted, the king was quick to assure them that all was in good hands. A number of their best knights had ridden out this morning to join the forces already fighting, and the invasion was sure to be deterred soon.

            After the speech, Fox considered, and seeing the sun was near setting, decided to stay at the inn for the night and return to his cabin in the morning. 

            As with many inns, one of the city taverns was part of the building, and the rest was the inn itself. He tied his horse and went in, leaning on the bar and gesturing for the bartender, who walked over after a moment.

            "What can I get you, stranger?"

            He ordered a glass of wine, then turned and leaned his back against the bar, watching the people come and go.

            "You don't seem like a local, young man." Remarked a voice he recognized.

            Turning, he saw the same hare he had talked to earlier. "I only come into town a few days of the year, good sir."

            The hare had an oddly regal look, and stood proud. He was dressed well—not like a royal, but with an aura of one a step above the commoners. "Ah, that explains it." And it also almost confirmed what the Hare suspected, but he decided to leave the young man to his devices for now.

            A minor commotion broke out at one of the bar that quickly escalated into an all-out bar fight. Fox huffed out a sigh, then set his glass down and walked over, stepping between the two men fighting and forcing them apart. "That's enough, if you will. None of us here want any trouble."

            The two men immediately directed their blows to him. He ducked and swept his leg down and around, hard and fast, knocking both to the ground. They blinked at him, and he gave them hands up automatically.

            "What kind of move was that?" One wanted to know.

            "One that kept you from hitting me." Fox replied with a small smile, and left the pair to stand there, dazed, then they shrugged and bought each other drinks.

            The hare was watching him intently, then said, "I thought I knew who you are when I saw you. Now I'm sure."

            "How is it, sir, that you know me but I don't know you?" He picked up his glass.

            "I knew your father. You're James McCloud's son."

            Fox startled. "Yes, I am."

            "Don't worry, son. Your father and I served together. I have fond memories of him." The hare smiled. "And I would be happy to provide you with better lodging."

            "You are too kind, sir."

            "No, it's the least I can do. Your father saved me a great many times. My name is Peppy Hare."

            Fox looked at him, then smiled just a little. "I apologize for not recognizing you, Peppy. I do remember you, but this is basically the first time I've seen you without armor." They left, Fox untying and leading his horse. "I'm not what my father was." He remarked, glancing at the older hare. "So please, don't think I am."

            "He trained you for it, did he not?" Peppy turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "What your father was was an honorable fighter. Is that was you are?"

            He downcast his gaze. "No. I am just a woodsman. And my father has been dead over a year now."

            Peppy nodded to himself, and led the young man to his house.

            "Surely you believe you are more then just a woodsman." Peppy later stated.

            Fox was silent, kneeling so he sat on his ankles, head bowed, before the small altar in Peppy's house. "I am what I am, and that is not a knight, not a fighter. Just a woodsman. I'm a tracker." He said, barely moving his mouth.

            Peppy was silent, then said, "Your father's death hit you hard, didn't it?"

            The young man gave him no answer, standing with a simple flex of his legs.

            "Fox."

            "I'd rather not discuss this." He finally said, brushing by and out of the room.

            "You're going to have to sooner or later. You've got the blood of a warrior in you, Fox."

            He turned and looked at Peppy. "I'm not a warrior and never will be."

            "You can't deny what you are deep down."

            He smiled a bit. "Or what you think I am deep down." He turned and continued down the hall, to the room Peppy had said he could use.

            When Fox woke up, he could hear a rising commotion outside the house, as well as on the first floor of the house he was in. He got up and left the bedroom, tying his tunic and smoothing his fur. "What happened?" He asked Peppy once he had found his host.

            "Princess Fara disappeared." Was the reply. Peppy was leaning on a windowsill watching the ruckus. "The King seems like he's about to rip the town apart over it. He's having every house searched. Rumor has it though that Andross' forces are behind it, which is of course the logical explanation."

            Fox stood there, unsure what to do or if he could even do anything.

            A knight entered the room. "Well, Sir Hare, nothing here to make you guilty, but with the way the king is, we may return later… Who is this?" He focused on Fox, eyes narrowing.

            "At ease. This is McCloud's son."

            "Ah." The knight nodded once and left.

            "And that immediately means I'm not subject to suspicion?" Fox asked Peppy.

            "Your father is somewhat of a legend, Fox."

            "True, perhaps, but that's him. Not me." He looked out the window at the chaos outside. "I don't want to live in my father's shadow, Peppy."

            "Until you make a name for yourself, that's always where you'll be." Was the quiet reply. "Why do you think I keep telling you to be what you're meant to? If you don't let people know who YOU are, you'll always be where you are now—in your father's shadow."

            Fox turned his back completely to Peppy, sinking into thought. "Do you really think that's true?"

            "I think you know what you need to do."

            He turned back, and nodded once. "Thank you."

            "You're thanking me for nothing." Peppy listened as Fox left the room, then sighed and shook his head. God knew that the death of his father had changed Fox. He had never seen the young man so deeply reserved and drawn into himself. He wasn't sure what Fox was planning, yet, but decided to help, if he was able.

            Fox, meanwhile, had gathered what little he had brought in and left the house, heading to collect his horse from the stable.

            He arrived back at his cabin in the early afternoon.

            He had pressed his horse a bit, who was used to it and took it easily. He left his horse in front of his cabin and went in, going directly to the locked cabinet. He fingered the handle, sighed, and muttered under his breath. He felt the minor magic rise from him, and the cabinet doors swung open.

            Because of his travels, his father had worn not the traditional armor of a knight, but rather armor of oriental design. He did have a broadsword, but a katana with an ornately carved hilt had been presented to him during his travels. Fox looked at the armor for a long time, then sighed.

            He did know what he had to do.

            He left the cabinet open and went into his storage room, moving things around until he came upon what he was looking for—an ornate saddle and bridle. He picked the tack up and went back outside. His mare perked up when she saw him, practically prancing when he removed the simpler tack and buckled on the ornate gear. He would have rather stayed with his other tack, but this saddle had needed additions for the armor.

            He went back inside, looking at the armor again, then steeled himself. He knew he wanted to prove himself. This was his chance.


	2. Chapter Two: His Majesty's Decree

Section Two: His Majesty's Decree

            Falco leaned back against the front of the tavern, watching the crowd with sharp eyes. Their glances back at him were suspicious; they knew him as a thief and ruffian. Just fine with him, at least they had gotten something right.

            Glancing up, he noticed that the older form of Peppy Hare was still at one of the windows, watching the square. He had been there quite some time. He was waiting for something.

            Falco shrugged to himself, gaze returning to the crowd. The entire city was tense, and many men were joining the king's army. One had even asked if HE was going to. Heh, when pigs fly, mused Falco. It wasn't that he didn't know how to fight—it was one of the things he was good at—he just didn't like the terms. Die for his King and Country? What fun was there in that? Or money, for that matter, he added. Soldiers made little money, after all.

            "Busy day."

            He looked, and saw he had been joined by a young frog. The blacksmith's son, whom he had known a while. The two got along, but didn't socialize much. Slippy Toad was short, stocky but not fat, and had some decent muscle—had to, in the line of work he was apprenticing for.

            "Yeah, busy day." Falco agreed blandly.

            "What do you think about the princess being kidnapped?"

            "I think we're lucky we didn't get arrested." He glared at a passing guard. "King was stark raving mad."

            "Don't say that, they'll hear you."

            "Oh, what can they do? I've spent some time in jail. They know not to mess with me." Falco's eyes roved the crowd, and noticed the people parting for a figure in horseback.

            The horse wore expensive tack, and the rider seemed to match. He wore a cloak, but Falco could see the impression of armor and weaponry under it. The rider himself was a fox, about Falco's age, with serious blue eyes and an aura of calm around him.

            Peppy had disappeared from the window, and appeared on the street, striding to meet the rider. The two exchanged greetings, then Peppy collected his horse and mounted, riding alongside the new arrival. Peppy himself wore clothes fit to a lord, as well as a broadsword.

            "What do you think?" Slippy asked, eyes also locked on the two riders as they passed.

            "Damned if I know. Let's trail along and find out. They're heading for the castle."

            "So what are you planning on doing?" Peppy looked over at Fox.

            "I was planning on offering my services to the King. I doubt that the Head Guard would listen, and I suspect the Generals are already fighting." Fox replied, working his fingers in his gloves.

            "If you want in the army and arrive like you are, the Head Guard will want to test you, and the King's still raging. For all I know he'll sentence you to beheading on the spot for being, ah, uppity."

            Fox smiled a little.

            Two guards stopped them at the gates. "What's your reason to be here?"

            "I'm here to offer my services to the King as a soldier." Fox replied simply.

            The pair looked at Peppy. "Your ward, Sir Hare?"

            "Not hardly. McCloud's son."

            The guards looked at each other, clearly at a dilemma. "We'll take you to the Head Guard, and if he approves, you can go before the king."

            "Fine, then."

            One of the guards led the pair to a stable. "Dismount." Fox did easily, Peppy with a little more stiffness from his age.

            "What in God's name kind of armor is that?" Asked a new voice, and the Head Guard came out of the stable.

            Fox glanced down, and realized a thin slice of his armor could be seen. He shrugged and tossed back the cloak, letting the Head Guard get a better look.

            "Interesting. Come to offer your services, hmm? What are you a mercenary?"

            "No sir."

            "Then what are you?"

            Fox paused. He wasn't entirely sure how to answer. Before, he could have just said 'a woodsman' and be done with it, but now… He sighed. "A civilian soldier sir."

            "A mercenary." The Head Guard grunted, looking vaguely disgusted. "We don't need your kind here."

            "I'm not a mercenary. I came to serve the King and fight as one of his soldiers." Fox drew himself up. Peppy began to move as if to silence him, but stopped and stepped back. "If you don't believe I can do this, test me, by all means."

            "If you insist." The Head Guard drew his sword and swung easily, looking bored. He looked surprised when his blade was immediately intercepted and deflected away.

            "Don't assume so much that I am not experienced." Fox tossed the cloak over his saddle, and stepped into a ready position. He was using the broadsword, but the Katana was also in its scabbard and in easy reach. His stance was easy, tail waving slightly. "Attack me."

            The head guard, confused, did so, and his sword immediately turned away. Fox responded on instinct but prevented what he knew would be a killing blow, instead sweeping his opponent's feet out from under him and touching his sword's tip to the Head Guard's neck.

            "All respect to you good sir, but is there someone more experienced I could face?" Fox asked, smiling a little.

            The Head Guard, stunned, brushed the sword away and stood. "I'll take you to the King."

            "What in God's name is the meaning of this, pray tell?" The King asked, glaring at the Head Guard.

            Fox had put his cloak back on, covering his armor. Even though he hadn't been bid to, he had gone down on one knee and bowed his head.

            "A mercenary, your Majesty." The Head Guard looked nervous.

            Fox didn't bother to correct him, merely maintaining his position.

            "Indeed. And what would I want with a mercenary? I have plenty of soldiers, soldiers who truly serve me, and not a day's wages." The King's harsh gaze turned on Fox, who didn't twitch, eyes downcast. "A respectful mercenary in any respect." He turned to Peppy. "Hare, what do you have to do with this, pray tell?" His tone gentled a little, he knew Peppy from years before.

            "The so-called mercenary before you is McCloud's son."

            "Indeed." The King sat back and pressed his fingertips together. "That makes it all the more interesting. Rise, young man."

            Fox slowly did, eyes still downcast, hands at his sides.

            "If you want to fight for me, why not just join the city's Militia, or the Infantry?"

            He considered, then said carefully, "Because my skills are not that of an Infantryman, your Majesty."

            "He speaks the truth." The Head Guard admitted.

            "Hmm. So you're saying it's beneath you?" The King narrowed his eyes.

            "No, your Majesty, I am saying I would be more useful elsewhere."

            "Hmm." He looked at Peppy, then back to Fox. "I note you carry two swords. Should I take that to mean you can fight with two weapons at once?"

            "Yes, your Majesty."

            "I recognize those swords. Your father came back with one when he returned from the Crusades. The other was issued to him when he was knighted." The King's look was thoughtful. "I believe you are trying to follow in your father's footsteps, aren't you?" When he didn't get a reply, he continued. "Well then. Come back at nightfall, and I will issue a decision."

            Fox and Peppy both bowed, and left the throne room.

            "There they are." Falco said. He was looking through the gate. The guards still hadn't returned to their posts. "Come on, let's eavesdrop, shall we?" He slipped through the open gate.

            "Falco, if we're caught…" Slippy muttered.

            "Relax, escape is my bread and butter."

            "Humph."

            "What do you think?" Peppy asked.

            Fox was crouched, wrists resting on knees. "He might let me in. Might not."

            "And if he doesn't?"

            He smiled a little and stood. "I have other plans."

            "Your father really taught you two-sword fighting?"

            "Yes indeed." Fox undid his cloak and set it over a fence post, rolling his shoulders. He wasn't used to wearing the armor yet. It was lighter then normal armor a knight would wear, but it was still a bit awkward to him. He settled his hands over both hilts absently, then drew the katana slowly.

            The blade of the sword flashed a rainbow of the colors as the waning sunlight hit it, seeming to glow. He twirled it one-handed absently, then fell into a series of practice moves.

            "What in God's name kind of sword is that?" Falco hissed to Slippy, watching the blade, almost drooling. He knew from experience how to tell if something was valuable or not, and knew that the katana had to be worth a fortune.

            "It's a Katana, an oriental sword. The metal is folded over a thousand times. Incredibly strong. My father told me about them." Slippy replied, more interested in the workmanship then in the worth. "And it looks to me like it's been enchanted. If I could get closer, I MIGHT be able to tell you how exactly it's been enchanted."

            "Well then." Falco was practiced in this sort of thing, and got Slippy closer to the point he was only ten feet away from where Fox was practicing.

            Slippy squinted, pulling a small handful of glistening powder from a belt pouch and blowing it into the air. It swirled and dispersed, but was clearly going towards the young fox and the sword.

            Fox felt magic leap through the air, and reacted instantly, lunging to his left and swinging. The woodpile tumbled down, revealing two figures about his age. He sighed and sheathed the glowing Katana, settling his hands to his hips. "Peppy, do you know these two?"

            "Slippy is the shorter one. Blacksmith's apprentice." Peppy walked over.

            "And the other?"

            "Falco. Local thief."

            "Well, that might explain what I just felt." He crossed his arms over his chest. "So. You were trying to analyze the enchantment on my sword, correct?" He looked at Slippy. "And you asked him to do so because you wanted to know how much it was worth." He looked at Falco.

            "Good guesses." Slippy muttered. "Sir Hare, who is your companion?"

            "This is Fox McCloud. James McCloud's son."

            "Wait a moment, here. James McCloud as in the Knight? Local legend?" Falco asked, lifting both eyebrows.

            "Yes."

            Falco eyed Fox. "Explains why he can use a sword so well."

            Fox eyed him back. "Exactly. Thus why only a born fool would try to steal my sword."

            The falcon laughed and clapped his hands together. "I've managed to steal many things most would call me a fool for stealing."

            "And you still have both your hands? I'm impressed."

            "He's good at what he does, or so I've heard." Peppy said, eyes narrowed at the scruffy avian, who looked back innocently. "The whole town knows what he does for a living, but no one has caught him in the act."

            "An innocent thief is a living thief, old man." Falco grunted, then looked at Fox. "So. Trying to become a Knight yourself? Hah, miserable job. Good luck."

            "No. Merely trying to get permission to fight." Fox kept his voice cool.

            "Why in God's name do you want to?"

            "That would be my business." He walked a few yards away, working his arms back and forth a bit.

            Falco didn't push. Actually he rather respected Fox, even if he had decided that this new acquaintance was choosing the wrong profession.

            A guard appeared. "Sir McCloud, the King has made a decision."

            "I admit, young man, that I thought about it hard." The King said, looking at Fox, who was kneeling again. "However, I shall have to decline your services."

            Fox wasn't surprised, but stayed reserved and showed no reaction to this.

            "Rise." Once Fox had, the King continued. "The way I see this, you have no true loyalty. You, young man, are a mercenary. You have no honor. And as for your father… he died guilty of an unforgivable crime, not as one of my Knights. Leave my presence."

            Fox jerked back, like he had been slapped. "Your Majesty, I…"

            "I said, leave me."

            Having no choice, he left, scorned and angry.


	3. Chapter Three:A Team Formed

Section Three: A Team Formed

            Fox propped his elbows on the bar and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, tail curling over his hip. He had removed his armor at the room he was using at Peppy's, and was back in his woodsman's outfit. He still wore the swords, though.

            The night was a lively one in the tavern, the crowd loud and happy. He ignored them, deep in thought.

            Falco took a spot beside him, elbowing aside a drunk and glancing at him. "Bad news from the King, eh?"

            Fox said nothing.

            After a moment, Falco moved his hand down casually and pulled a knife from a hip holster, inching it closer to cut the belt loop that the katana hung on. Seconds later, his wrist was firmly held by Fox's hand. He hadn't even seen Fox's hand move. "Fast reflexes."

            "Very. Try taking that again, and you might find yourself missing that hand."

            "Fine, I get it." He tried to wretch his hand free, but Fox's grip was iron. "Could you possibly let me go?"

            Fox did. Falco muttered to himself, rubbing his wrist.

            "What happened with the King?" He asked again, eyeing Fox.

            "That is not your business."

            "True." Peppy took the spot on Fox's other side. "But it can't be good."

            Fox was silent, rubbing his chin again. "His Majesty scorned me." He finally said.

            "No!" Falco stared. "Why would he do that?"

            "He said I was a mercenary, and unlike my father, I had no honor. At all." A slight growl came into Fox's voice, then disappeared. "In one respect, he is wrong. I am not a mercenary."

            "Mercenary?" Shouted a drunken voice. A heavyset bear staggered up. "You're a mercenary?"

            "No." Fox said bluntly. "I am not."

            "Then what are you? A deserter?" The bear wobbled, pointing at the broadsword on his hip, voice raised to a near-shout. "That's a Knight's sword!"

            "It was my father's." He replied.

            "I think you're lying."

            Fox very calmly wrapped his hand around the hilt of the katana and partly drew it. The sword's glow filled the area around him with an unearthly light. He narrowed his eyes, silently warning his assaulter. 

            "Oh, my God." The bear staggered back.

            Fox calmly sheathed the sword and turned back to the bar.

            "I grabbed us a table." Chirped Slippy, holding two overfilled mugs in each hand. "Come on."

            "All right." Peppy nodded, and the three standing at the bar followed him back to the corner table and sat. Fox took the seat in the corner itself, so he could keep watch over the entire tavern.

            "So what are you planning to do now?" Peppy looked at him.

            "I'm haven't decided yet." Fox said after several moments, fingertips pressed together.

            Falco knocked back the entire contents of the mug in front of him in one gulp. "What are your choices? You can't join any part of the King's army now. What are you going to do?"

            He didn't reply.

            "Evening, Lombardi." Trilled a voice.

            "Ah, Elspeth!" Falco grinned as a willowy figure approached. One of the barmaids, she was curvy, the sort of body that seemed to be made to hold. "Evening."

            "Interesting crowd you're sitting with." She purred, trailing her fingertips along his shoulder and down to his collarbone as she stepped up next to him. His feathers rose in response. "Good evening, Sir Hare, Sir Toad…" She trailed off and raised an eyebrow at Fox, who hadn't moved from his former position, still sitting leaned back, fingertips pressed together. "Who's your friend?"

            "McCloud. Fox McCloud." Falco replied, smile faltering a bit.

            "Not a local, obviously." She tilted her head, long dark hair cascading down.

            "No, not a local. Lives out in the forest, far as I know." He shrugged.

            "Ah. Country lad." She looked like she would have walked up to Fox and given him the same treatment as Falco, but couldn't get to him where he was sitting. "What brings him here?"

            "The war, fair maiden." Fox replied simply.

            "Fair maiden?" She purred happily.

            Falco all-out scowled at Fox, who just looked back at him, then looked past him. He inhaled suddenly, hands lowering to his sword hilts.

            Falco turned. A trio of people he didn't know had entered the tavern, and he knew just by looking at them that he'd be better off not messing with them. The one in lead was an early-twenties wolf with an eye patch. He was followed by a reptilian about Falco's age, and a stocky middle-aged pig. All had the dress and attitude of mercenaries.

            "Someone you know?" Falco turned back to Fox.

            "One of them for certain." He replied softly. "Correct, Peppy?"

            Peppy had been looking at the trio since they had come in. "Yes. Correct." His gaze turned harsh and angry. "And the wolf looks very familiar as well."

            "Yes indeed." Fox stood and walked around the table, heading towards the trio. "Evening."

            The entire tavern had become wary when the trio had walked in. Now it quieted down even more, watching the lone fox and the trio.

            "Evening. May we be of some assistance, or are you just trying to be polite?" The wolf inquired, holding a glass of deep red wine in one hand.

            Fox replied by turning to the pig. "God ye good eve, Sir Dengar."

            "How do you know me?" The pig blinked his small eyes.

            "You don't remember me, do you? I was a good bit younger when we last met."

            The pig looked at him, then smiled and leaned back. "Ah I remember you now! You're McCloud's son. Yes, I remember…" The smile faltered. "But what precisely do you remember about me?"

            "Only as a child would remember." Fox shrugged gracefully, though the look in his eyes was cold and angry.

            "He isn't the only one who remembers you either." Peppy joined Fox. "Good evening, Pigma. Been a little while, hasn't it?" His gaze remained harsh, anger flaring behind his eyes.

            "We don't want any trouble here, gentlemen." Said the bartender, looking at them.

            "No, no trouble." Fox replied, eyes on Pigma. "None at all. I somehow feel I know you as well." He turned to the wolf, tilting his head slightly. "Did we not train together for a short time?"

            "Actually, I do believe we did. Wolf O'Donnel." The wolf shook hands with Fox.

            "Then I do remember you. I believe we sparred sometimes, did we not?"

            "Yes indeed. And I recall that you were quite an exceptional fighter."

            "That was then. This is now." Fox shrugged again. "And my father, who was assisting to train both of us, is dead."

            Wolf didn't react, then just turned back to the bar. Pigma glanced away.

            Peppy and Fox returned to their table, and talk started back up in the tavern. Even as the pair walked away, the trio paid for their drinks and left.

            "What was that all about?" Asked Falco, looking from Fox to Peppy and back again.

            "Pigma Dengar used to fight beside Fox's father and myself." Peppy replied.

            "He was a Knight?"

            "Yes."

            "Any particular reason why both of you hate him?"

            "He's the whole reason that Fox's father is dead, Lombardi."

            Fox was back in his former position, gaze distant…and deeply thoughtful. After a moment, he stood and left.

            Falco turned to Peppy. "How did Fox's father die?"

            Peppy sighed. "It's a long and tragic tale, I'm afraid."

            "Tell me." 

            "I'm curious also. My father told me he was a well-known Knight that died in the crusades." Said Slippy.

            "Not quite. It was a little over a year ago. James, Pigma, and I were all knights, crusading together. We were on the return with our group when James was killed."

            "Killed? How?"

            Peppy closed his eyes. "Executed."

            "Dear God! Why?" Slippy blanched.

            "James had disagreed with the raiding of local villages and talked to our commander. They had an argument over it. The next morning, our commander is dead in his tent of poisoning.

            I don't only use swords. I also use compound long bows, and I had gotten in the habit of soaking the arrowheads in a heart-stopping poison I had learned about in the East. When I woke up, the belt pouch I kept the poison in was gone, and James was being interrogated in the middle of camp, on his knees and hands tied behind his back.

            The whole camp had known he had had an argument with our commander, but what stunned me was that Pigma was the first to say that James was guilty! Not only that, I also caught some of the blame, because it had been my poison used. But James had been accused of the act, and the message came here to the King that he had murdered his commander. The order went back, and he was executed on the spot." Pain choked Peppy's voice.

            "Oh, my God." Falco murmured.

            "That isn't the worst of it. Only two days later, it was discovered that the one who had truly done it was Pigma himself. He fled before any action could be taken against him, leaving me fallen from grace and James wrongfully executed. As far as the King is concerned, James is still guilty, as well as I."

            "So James McCloud died dishonored."

            "Yes. I was told I was free to go once we had returned, and I took Fox his father's belongings, and asked if he would be wanting to live in my house. He refused, and until a short time ago I didn't see him again."

            "He didn't recognize you?"

            "Yes indeed. I almost didn't recognize him. He's grown a bit since I took him his father's belongings." Peppy sighed. "He might act so completely calm… but somehow, I don't think he truly is. There's a lot of anger under that act. I could see it when he was talking to Pigma."

            "He wants revenge?"

            "He might. But his code prevents him showing it. He's trained himself to never loose self-control, but his…. Hmm, Makoto prevents it."

            "His what?" Slippy blinked.

            "Makoto. Sense of justice. He knows what happened with his father is wrong, but until a solution presents itself, he's going to wait." Peppy rubbed his chin. "His father told me once that an impatient hunter chases, and a good hunter waits. I think this is what Fox is thinking now."

            The table was silent for several minutes.

            "What do you think his next move will be?" Falco asked.

            Peppy stood. "I think I should go back to my house and catch him before he leaves."

            Fox sighed, crouching on his toes and rubbing his eyes. He had packed up what he had brought, and was back in armor. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing, but he had something he had to do, and the King had denied him all other ways.

            "Leaving?"

            He had heard Peppy take the place in the doorway. He also knew, by footsteps and breathing, that Slippy and Falco were with him. "Yes." He stood.

            "Wouldn't it be best to leave in the morning?"

            "I don't see a reason to wait. I have all I need."

            Fox stood, and the two looked at each other for several moments. Fox was reserved, but Peppy saw a light in his eyes, an eagerness. He wanted to get away from the town and on the road. It was clear he had some sort of path to follow… a path, Peppy mused, that he probably shouldn't take on alone.

            "Yes, but we do not."

            "'We'?"

            "Yes. We." Falco leaned in. "This town is too wary of me, so I might as well accompany you. Now's as good a time as any to travel."

            "I too would like to accompany you, Sir McCloud." Slippy spoke up.

            "Four is too many." Fox turned away. "Too many for what I'm trying to do."

            "You're trying to clear your father's name, aren't you?" Peppy said softly.

            "Yes." Fox turned back. "And to do that, I have to bring Pigma Dengar to justice."

            "That isn't all you want to do."

            "No." He looked out the window. "There is a princess, I believe, that could be in need of a rescue. I intend to provide that rescue."

            "Wait, wait. We're discussing going deep into Andross' territory." Falco said, then grinned. "Now I am definitely not being left out of this." Slippy nodded agreement.

            "It would be best if you didn't go alone Fox." Peppy said gently as Fox turned away restlessly. "We all have our strong points, which are even stronger when together. Groups are safer for travel, and we will be traveling great distances, I believe."

            "Yes…. Yes we are." He sighed, turning back. "Fine, then. We leave in the morning."

            Fox sighed, leading his horse through town. It was just past dawn, and the town was just waking up now. He himself had everything he needed, though he was considering picking up more arrows for his bow, even if he could just as easily make them given the time.

Falco appeared, carrying fully loaded saddlebags over his shoulder. Seeing Fox, he fell in step.  "Slippy's getting his horse."

"Hmm."

"You really don't like that we're going with you, do you?"

Fox shrugged. "I was hoping to take this on alone. I'm trying to make a name for myself, after all."

"You're going to need help, and don't deny it." Peppy appeared, leading a mare and a gelding. He tossed the reins of the gelding to Falco, who nodded and flopped his saddlebags across the back of the saddle, lacing them in. Slippy joined them, also leading a gelding, already loaded for travel.

"So?"

Fox mounted up, and the rest followed his lead.

The entire town watched them leave, Fox leading them. There was an obvious sense of purpose in the small group, that they were following a path.

"You do know what the King does to vigilantes, right?" Falco remarked.

Fox did his partial smile, though there was no humor in it. "I've got something I need to do, with, or without, the King's permission."

He chuckled softly. "Well, then. Lead the way."

Fox oriented off the sun and led them along one of the main roads, seeming quite sure of himself. The other three shared glances.

"How do you know where to go?" Slippy asked, urging his horse forward to pace Fox.

"I have a theory." He replied. "On just how and why the Princess disappeared."

"All right, enlighten us." Falco nudged his horse up to pace on the other side of Fox.

"When I heard about the kidnapping, my immediate thought was that Andross was behind it. Most of the town seemed to have the same thought, but no one could say how." Fox kept his eyes on the road while he spoke. "My thought was that a group of Andross' soldiers or supporters came within a few miles of the town, then sent a familiar in. Once the familiar had the Princess in eyesight, they used some sort of spell to teleport her."

"Makes good sense, but why did you know which way to go?"

"Because they'd still have to go back to territory held by Andross. Which is the direction we're heading in now."

Falco and Slippy shared a glance.

The rest of the day's travel was in silence. The trio traveling with Fox didn't say much to him, not surprised at his assurance in the direction they were going. He only stopped once, at a fork in the road, the more-traveled one heading for a city, and the much-less traveled one heading for the forest.

Fox dismounted and crouched just at the fork, frowning at the ground and sweeping a hand over the trampled dirt.

Falco dismounted and crouched next to him. "And?"

"Have any heavy mounted soldiers left town the last two or three days?"

He thought about that. "No, I'd have known if they have."

"Hmm." Fox stood. "Then they're heading for the forest."

"How can you tell we're not following woodsmen such as yourself?"

Fox sighed and crouched back down, indicating partial-circle horse tracks. "These were made by iron horseshoes within the last three days… closer to two days in fact. Woodsmen don't use iron horseshoes, including myself, because they're so heavy and noisy. Also, by the depth of the prints and make of the shoes, I'd say these were made by war horses, mounted soldiers." He rubbed his chin, looking more carefully. "But some of these are more fresh, not eight hours old."

"Meaning what?"

Fox slowly raised his gaze, looking at the forest. "Dengar. And O'Donnel." He stood and swung back into the saddle. Falco followed. "It'll be sunset in an hour. I say we go to the edge of the forest and camp there, leave in early morning."

The others agreed.

Fox crouched on the perimeter of the camp, then leapt to his feet and spun, drawing the glowing katana and expertly performing a series of complicated moves. The sword left glowing haloes around him, steamers of light that faded more and more slowly as the sun set.

Falco watched him, stoking the fire with a stick absently. "What would it take for you to teach me?" He asked Fox bluntly.

"Your respect, and Peppy loaning you his broadsword." Fox replied, twirling the sword into a disk of light.

The avian's eyes remained riveted to the oriental blade. "I can't use that?"

"No." Fox sheathed the sword, eyes narrowing. "It requires different handling, an entirely different teaching then a broadsword. I'd also need two. I can't teach you to use a katana while I use a broadsword. Besides, no one but family blood can handle this sword."

"Tradition?"

His eyes glowed softly, and Falco swore later that it hadn't been firelight, but something else. "Magic."

"I'm glad to know that swordsmanship isn't the only thing your father taught you." Peppy rose his head and smiled a bit. "We don't have enough light this evening to combat train. I suggest first light tomorrow."

Falco nodded, watching Fox blur through hand-to-hand combat moves. "You know magic?"

"Some." Was the soft reply.

"What can you do?"

"Depends." Fox crouched on his heels by the fire. "On the number of spells I do in one day."

Slippy looked up. He was sitting cross-legged by the fire, reading from a worn tome that was journeying with him. Fox needed only to glance at it to tell it was magical in nature. "I know. I've studied some spells over and over to relearn them."

"I don't always need do that." Fox rubbed his chin. "I'm quarter-Elven."

"Quarter?" Falco echoed.

"James McCloud was half Elven." Peppy yawned widely; he was older and the day's travel had taken its toll.

"Doesn't seem very significant."

Fox's reply was in fluent Elven, then, smiling at Falco's utterly baffled look, said goodnight.

Peppy yawned and sat up. The first rays of light were just spreading over the horizon, and the fire had already been coaxed into a cooking fire.  Falco was still flat out on his bedroll, but Slippy was beginning to stir. Fox was nowhere in sight.

After several moments, he emerged from the treeline, and crouched beside the fire. He nodded to Peppy, tail curling across his hip. "Morning."

"How long have you been up?"

"A while." Fox shrugged the question off. "Oh, and being you're a vegetarian, I thought you might enjoy these." He pulled a double-handful of wild strawberries from his pack, followed by an apple.

"Thoughtful of you." Peppy smiled and accepted the food, watching Fox prepare a meal for the rest of them. "You don't have to do that, you know. One of us could have."

"I was first up." He snapped his hand down and grabbed Falco's wrist. "The next time you try to steal that, I won't hesitate, and you'll be missing that hand."

Falco laughed and snapped to his feet, stretching. "You must have eyes in the back of your head, friend."

"So it's said." He rubbed his chin, staring into the fire. "Do you still wish to learn how to handle a broadsword?"

"Yes indeed."

Peppy handed his sword to Falco, and the two walked a distance away from camp as Peppy took over the job of cooking their morning meal. Fox rolled his shoulders, twisting from his waist back and forth as he did.

"How long have you been training?" Falco watched him pull his broadsword and do some warm-up moves.

"I started learning Bushido when I learned to read and write. I started learning combat when I was ten."

"And your father was a half-elf."

"Yes, while it isn't a well-known fact. When he was home, friends of his would visit. They helped teach me to use magic."

"I'm not even going to ask to try to learn that. I can't read very well."

"Mm." He eyed Falco, eyed how the avian held the sword. "Do you even know how to use a broadsword?"

"To me all swords are the same, and share one simple rule—the pointed end goes into the other man." And with that began to do semi-fancy maneuvers, making the blade flash.

Fox flicked his wrist, and Peppy's broadsword flew across the clearing and sank into the ground. "This is going to take a little more effort then I predicted."

A soft, tinkling laugh filled the air. Both froze, looking around.

"Aye, aye, I agree, sir fox!" Called a voice.

"Show yourself!" Falco called.

"Hah! If you cannot see me, why should I?" Challenged the voice, coming from another direction then before. "You cannot see the forest for the trees, sir thief!" 

Fox made a gesture for Falco to remain silent, slowly looking around then focusing on a grove of trees. "He may not be able to, but I can, mademoiselle elf."

A trill of pleasure echoed through the air, and a delicate feline appeared, crouched on a branch, wearing loose robes and a cloak. Her hair was loose around her face, one lock coming down in a braid. "You flatter me, sir fox!"

"But of course. How else would I treat a lovely lady such as yourself?"

She trilled again, leaping lightly to the ground, then started speaking in Elven. Fox cocked his head to one side, listening, as Falco looked more and more confused.

When the Elven feline finished, Falco looked at Fox. "What did she say?"

Fox just smiled and strolled back to the camp, gesturing for Falco to follow. Falco wasn't surprised when the elf also followed.

"I see we have acquired a guest." Peppy stood and bowed. "Sir Peppy Hare, formerly of his Majesty's Knights of the Crusades. And you would be, young lady?"

"Sorceress Katt Monroe."

"Sorceress?" Slippy hurriedly stood and bowed.

"Yes." She sat by the fire, looking with interest at the venison cooking. "I thought I would escort you through the forest. There are some… beings here that might take kindly to your presence."

"Drows?" Fox asked, slicing the venison and passing her a serving.

Katt looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"Ah."

"That's no answer." Falco muttered.

"It's all the answer I need." Fox told him. "We break camp as soon as we're done eating. We've got a distance to travel." He turned to Katt. "Have you a mount?"

She shifted. "I don't need one."

"A woman. You're allowing a woman to travel with us." Falco muttered darkly to Fox as they rode down the path, which seemed more and more less worn as time passed.

"She is an Elven sorceress, Falco. I respect her." Fox glanced up at the trees. He knew that the newest member of the group was using them to move easily through the forest. "Besides, I know forests, but she knows THIS part of the forest. And I know that this forest is enchanted."

"It is?"

"Yes. You can't feel it can you?" Fox sighed, urging his horse onward.

They stopped a few hours later to water their horses. It was only then that Katt appeared, sitting by the stream. Fox walked up to her, and she glanced up.

"A few more hours travel and we'll be out of what's considered my territory."

"Then?"

"Then I'm only vaguely familiar with the road we'll be following. And it will be more dangerous." She stared into the distance. "There are far more deadly creatures then I in this forest."

"Dragons?" Falco asked, snapping his head up.

"It's not the dragons that worry me." She replied, standing.

"Then what?"

She sighed and didn't reply.

"Tell us."

"You wouldn't know of the creatures I talk about. You're a city dweller, and thus, it is all you know." She looked at Fox. "We better move on."

He didn't ask, only nodded.

"I don't get it. What's she talking about that is more dangerous then a dragon?" Falco muttered.

"Not all dragons are dangerous." Fox replied, eyes trained straight ahead. "My father spoke of a gold dragon that saved his life once."

"I can vouch for that." Peppy said. "And as for Drows… A Drow, Falco, is a dark Elf."

"Evil?"

"No. Not necessarily. Not all of them. Of course, we could just as easily say that about our own race, now couldn't we?" He tossed his hand. "Drows normally live underground. In fact, it is very odd for one to come to the surface. But if one does…" He let the sentence die a natural death.

Falco sighed, wishing he had a clue as to what was going on.

"Milady Katt?" Fox paused, drawing his horse to a stop.

"Yes?" She appeared in front of him.

"Am I right in thinking that there is a town a few days travel from here?"

"Yes, but a small one. This road passes right through it." She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear absently. "Once we get out of the forest, the main road rejoins this one."

"Hmm." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So any traveling on this road would have to meet travelers on the main road eventually, including soldiers."

"In concept. And have to pass through the village." She half-closed her eyes, thinking. "The last time I journeyed this way, there were no offshoots of the road until a half-day's travel past the town."

"So they wouldn't have a choice unless they leave the road."

"Now that that's established, why does it matter?" Falco asked.

Fox looked at him. "We're chasing a war party, Lombardi. A war party that is going to pass through a small village, which I assume is not guarded, because it's still a long distance from the boarder."

Falco's eyes widened. "My god…. Are you saying…"

"No not necessarily. They may just pass through and not hurt a soul." Fox rubbed his chin again. "What I'm saying is that if they pass through, someone will be able to tell us that they did. And then we'll know for sure we're on the right track."

"Well, looks like no one burned the town down." Falco remarked, glancing at Fox, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"That was worse case scenario, Lombardi." Was the chill reply. "Besides, there has been other damage done. Watch how they look at us."

Falco frowned, watching the villagers, and saw what Fox was talking about. The villagers glanced at them and hurriedly went about their business. "They seem like they're scared of us."

Katt, who was now riding a semi-wild stallion of some draft ancestry, also took a good look around. "Of course, we're not exactly the normal traveling party."

"Even so." Fox glanced around. "I say we stop to collect some information and keep moving. We aren't welcome here."

"If it's information you want, leave that to me." Falco replied. "That's one of my expertises."

Fox wove a hand, and Falco split from the group.

"Looks like you were right, Fox. Not only did O'Donnel's party pass through here, so did a military party, and they're not a few hours ride ahead of us." Falco reported when the group gathered an hour or so later. "Looks like someone might beat us to O'Donnel. They were riding hard, according to those I talked to."

"Hmm. A military party?"

"Yeah. Elite guards mounted and a few knights." He shook his head. "No way O'Donnel can stand up to that."

"Actually, O'Donnel has a better chance then the task force." Was the bland reply. "You forget that I trained with him. Let's move out. I would rather be traveling then unwelcome in a town."

"I agree." Peppy nodded. "None here will even say why they are scared."

"I know." Katt suddenly said. "O'Donnel threatened them. Said if they didn't keep their mouths shut, he'd demolish the town."

"How do you know that, pray tell? Even the informers I talked to didn't say that." Falco looked at her.

She smiled a bit. "I'm an elf. I saw it in their eyes, Lombardi."

"In that case I don't want to know. Let's go."

"I don't get it. If they're in front of us, how did you tell their tracks from O'Donnel's before we entered the forest?" Slippy asked.

"They weren't ahead of us then. They left after us." Fox replied. "They're riding faster and took the main road, so they passed us."

"I still say they're going to catch O'Donnel before us." Falco grumbled.

"Even if the Princess is safe, you forget that there are other things I have to do."

"Why can't you two just get along?" Slippy grumbled.

"We have far different beliefs."

"Indeed." Falco agreed. "Main one being is he's honor-bound and the only honor I have is among thieves."

"That doesn't mean I don't respect you, Lombardi." Fox looked at him. "This group is well-rounded, and even thief's honor is better then none. You do have skills that you lend to the group that I'm thankful for. I would, however, be a little more trusting if you would quit trying to steal my Katana."

Falco laughed out loud.


	4. Chapter Four: Thief's Challenge

Section Four: Thief's Challenge

            "Near as I can tell, the next city is another day's ride from here." Slippy said, looking at a map.

            "Sounds right to me." Peppy replied. "We play our cards right, we might run across a friendly farm that will board us for a night."

            "Be a welcome change." Falco remarked.

            "We've only been on the road a day." Fox replied. "And if we're heading for the border, we'll easily be on the road two weeks."

            "Hopefully we'll see some action before that, or I shall perish from boredom." Falco made a face. "Speaking of which, I'd like to stay in the upcoming city for the night. Unless I'm wrong, the next city is New Hope, correct?"

            "Looks like it, why?"

            "That's where Darien is stationed." He smiled. "And Darien is King of Thieves."

            "Oh." Slippy blinked. "There's a King of Thieves?"

            "Yes indeed. He's the one that started the 'Honor among Thieves' code." Falco sat up a little straighter. "I'd like to meet him, but I might not be renowned enough to."

            "You meeting Darien is about on par with one of us meeting the King, isn't it?"

            "Just about." He looked off toward the fields, and grinned. "Look sharp, my friends… we're being beckoned."

            They looked where he was looking, and saw a pair of later-teens girls waving at them, laughing and beckoning, leaning on the scythes they had been cutting hay down with.

            "Good Lord." Katt rubbed her eyes.

            "No, Falco." Fox said flatly.

            "Aw, you're no fun!" Falco whined. "Come on, what's the difference if we dally an hour or three?"

            "No." Fox looked like he was strongly considering hitting Falco with the most powerful spell he could think of. Katt's look about matched it.

            "Just because your little code forbids it doesn't mean mine does." Falco drew his horse to a stop.

            "You are despicable." Katt growled.

            "Proud of it, miss elf." He looked at Fox. "Come on Fox. Soldiers weary of heart don't fight as well."

            "You weary of heart?" Fox rolled his eyes, then sighed, looking at the sun. "It's only a few hours until sunset. We'll find somewhere to camp. And leave us out of it."

            Falco grinned and turned his horse, nudging the gelding into a run and jumping the fence.

            "Why'd you let him go?" Slippy looked at Fox.

            "Because I didn't want to listen to him whine for hours on end." Fox rubbed his eyes. "Let's find a place to camp."

            Fox sighed, leaning on a tree in the grove his group had camped at. Peppy was already asleep, and Katt and Slippy were in a deep discussion about magic. He himself had removed his armor, back in his woodsman's outfit. A ball of light sat above one shoulder.

            After a moment, he stepped farther away from the camp, drawing his Katana and going through some warm-up moves. The blade flashed and glowed, brighter as he sped up. He wasn't very tired yet, though the sun had already gone down. He drew the broadsword in his other hand and started going through two-weapon moves, not thinking, eyes closed. In his mind, he fought for his father's honor. That thought fueled his moves, and he sped up, faster and faster, battling imaginary foes.

            "Ahem."

            He jumped about a foot in the air, freezing in mid-motion, feet touching down, looking toward the noise. Katt, Slippy, and Peppy were all staring at him.

            "You've been doing that for about half an hour." Peppy calmly informed him. "And, while I'm not protesting, could you at least tone the magic down?"

            Fox looked down at his swords. Both were wrapped in lightning. "… Oh." He sheathed both weapons and shrugged. "I wasn't aware I was doing it."

            "Who were you fighting? Dengar and O'Donnel?" When Fox nodded, Peppy sighed. "At least you can make your anger fuel something productive." With that, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

            "You know the spell for chain lightning?" Katt finally asked.

            "Yes I do." Fox sighed, ducking his head, and left the camp entirely, ashamed somehow. He had let his imagination run away from him.

            After a few minute's walking, he came upon a small stream, and sat down beside it, laying back so he stared up at the stars, toning down the ball of light with a minor hand gesture. He remembered some astronomy one of his father's friends had taught him, and started going through the constellations in his head. The moon was a mere crescent, and he reached down to finger the hilt of the katana, feeling the moon phases carved in the hilt. 

            He sighed and stretched, letting himself relax.

            He woke up a bit later, knowing he was no longer alone, hand flying down to the katana's hilt as he brightened the sphere of light. The light showed one of the two girls who had beckoned, sitting beside him, looking at him. She was a gray fox, good country stock, strong but still feminine, and quite becoming.

            "How is it, good sir, that you sit alone when a maid awaits your attention?" She inquired, raising an eyebrow.

            He sat up, brushing his fingers through his fur. "Because unlike my comrade, I do not believe in such acts before marriage."

            "Ah. So you are a knight." She eyed his swords.

            "No. I am a paladin in training. My father was a knight." 

            "And apparently you know magic." She looked at the ball of light.

            "That is a quite simple spell, but I do know some more complicated ones. I take it you decided you didn't care for Falco?"

            "My tastes run along my own species, unlike Heather. I'm Gwyneth. Who exactly are you?"

            "Fox. Fox McCloud."

            "McCloud? That name is familiar." 

            "My father was well known." He stared off into the distance.

            There was a moment of silence, then she pouted. "And I do not interest you at all?"

            "My code prevents such acts, fair lady. I do apologize." He stood. "I should return to camp."

            "If you must." She also stood. "Good luck in your travels, kind sir."

            "Thank you. Good night, fair lady." And with that, he started walking.

            "I still think you're despicable." Katt muttered at Falco as they rode out.

            "Go ahead and think that." Falco grinned, waving at the girls and urging his horse into a trot. "I hear you stuck to your little code, Fox."

            "Don't scorn me, Falco." Was the simple reply.

            "And why not? I think it'd be interesting to see you angry. I've yet to."

            Fox gave him a look. "Dishonor me and pay the consequences. My honor is something I take very seriously. I will not break my code." He shook off. "We should reach New Hope by early evening."

            "How large of a city is New Hope?" Slippy asked.

            "About on par with the capitol, I believe." Peppy replied. "Are you still going to meet Darien, Falco?"

            "Of course. What's the point of this journey without taking advantage of it? He'll probably give me a few challenges to prove just how expert I am at my trade, but I think I'll be able to meet them." Falco smiled. "Keep a sharp eye on that sword of yours, Fox."

            Fox stopped his horse, disconnected the katana from his belt, and held it toward Falco so the hilt faced him. "Try and draw it."

            Falco did, getting a firm grip on the hilt, and yelped as fire seared through his hand. He let go, cursing, shaking his hand. "You did that on purpose."

            "Of course. I told you this sword is protected by magic. I didn't lie." He settled the katana back at his side, continuing on.

            "And your father's knights' sword?"

            Fox gave him a look. "What thief would be stupid enough to steal one of those? It would look like he killed a knight to get it!"

            "Good point." Peppy laughed. "It's not unheard of… happened once or twice in the crusades, but mostly when the knight wasn't at full strength and we were in a hostile town."

            "Hmm." Falco said. "Fox, in the event we do catch up with Pigma, could…"

            "Yes, you can have his sword, I don't care…  Speak of the devil." Fox halted his horse again.

            "What?"

            "Looks like the king's task force did catch up to O'Donnel, and someone lost, badly."

            The whole group stopped and looked at him. He was staring toward the horizon.

            He pointed. "See the birds circling? Carrion eaters. They appear after battles."

            "My God." Peppy breathed, crossing himself.

            "I knew it. I knew this was coming." Fox said darkly, dismounting and crouching on the ground.

            The king's task force had been massacred. The ground was splattered with blood, warhorses lay on their sides peppered with arrows, and the bodies of foot soldiers and knights lay desecrated. 

            "All here are from the King's own. Looks like it was a very bad loss." Slippy stammered, dismounting and touching the ground. "Dark magic was used here. They must have a powerful black wizard."

            "I agree." Fox said. "I feel it too. Spread out, see if there's any survivors."

            The next half an hour was a quiet one, broken only by mumbled prayers. Falco took full advantage of the situation, thinking that dead men didn't need weapons. Fox didn't protest. He was too angry to. Even as he was calm and cold on the surface, deep down an immense hatred was starting to boil for Wolf O'Donnel and Pigma Dengar. He was beginning to associate them with a lot of pain that was in his life, and now they were ruining other people's lives too, slaughtering soldiers mercilessly, and not one of their own was lost in the process. How? Fox shook his head in frustration. He had seen this coming from a mile away. O'Donnel was just too good, too prepared. All the King had done was endanger his daughter…

            "We got a live one!"

            Fox stopped his musings, carefully crossing the battle zone to where Peppy kneeled. One of the younger foot soldiers was by some miracle still breathing faintly, though crossbow bolts stuck out of his side and leg. Fox and Katt knelt beside the body.

            "Do you know healing magic?" Katt asked Fox.

            "Some. We have to get the arrows out…" He looked at Peppy.

            Peppy shook his head. "Iron heads, serrated. Backing the arrows out will kill him for sure."

            Fox took a closer look at the soldier, and recognized him. "Grey! Bill Grey!"

            "Fox, you know him?" Katt said.

            "Acquaintance. Rather a long story as to how. Let's try and heal him; perhaps he can fill us in on what happened."

            Fox spread his hands above Bill's skin. Katt put her hands over Fox's, and a glow slowly started in their hands, then filtered down to Bill. Slowly but surely the arrows were pushed out as the wounds healed, sword cuts sealing up.

            Task complete, Fox sat back, shivering a little. He wouldn't be able to pull off much other magic today; he wasn't a strong wizard. Fighting was his strong point, not magic. But he had helped, Bill had a fighting chance now.

            "He's lost a lot of blood." Katt sat back on her heels, brushing a tendril of hair behind her ear.

            "How long ago did this happen, you think?" Falco asked.

            "A few hours. Not long." Peppy sighed. "There isn't much we can do but press on to New Hope and send the King a message from there. Once Grey wakes up, we can move on. In the mean time, let's move him away from this battlefield."

            "What do you remember?"

            Bill accepted the water skin from Katt gladly, propping himself up on one elbow. He was shaking, but he was alive. "Well, I remember that the knight commanding us had rode on ahead, then came back, saying that we were right behind O'Donnel's party." He slowly stood, accepting a hand up from Fox and setting a hand on Fox's shoulder to steady himself. Fox didn't protest. "You might notice we're currently in a small valley… The knight had us fan out and swoop down on O'Donnel's party, which was moving slowly enough we were able to come upon them fast. But they were ready for us. We lost half our number to magic and arrows before we got there…" He wavered, eyes closed. "I remember I somehow dodged the arrows and plowed into their group. I had heard the princess' voice… they had a few carriages with them… Then my horse fell as I got hit by their arrows. That's all I remember."

            "Good Lord." Slippy murmured, crossing himself.

            "And this group is traveling to New Hope?" He opened his eyes, looking around at the ragtag band. He had been introduced to them before being asked to explain, and found it to be an interesting group in the least.

            "That's where we're next stopping." Fox replied. "Falco has business there, and I would like to collect information on the progress of the war and O'Donnel's party."

            "Would you mind if I traveled with you? I could send a message from there, and get transportation of my own."

            "Fine with us. You should stop in with a professional healer as well, and make certain that your wounds are completely healed."

            "Fine, then." He glanced around, looking at the horses. "Leaving how exactly I'm going to ride with you…"

            "Simple." Falco appeared from nowhere, leading a black horse of some draft decent. It was in armor, and looked more then a bit nervous. "I think during battle one of your knights lost his horse. He won't be needing it now."

            "True I suppose." Bill swung into the saddle as the others mounted their horses. "Shall we?"

            "Bustling town. Looks like more people then the capitol." Fox remarked, looking around.

            "Never been here?" Bill glanced at him.

            "Not in a long time, no." He sighed. "Shall we find an inn?"

            Falco leaned back in the chair he sat in, surveying the tavern carefully. He had been keeping an eye on a few people since he had walked in. 

            "Anyone in particular you looking for?" Katt inquired, sitting down next to him and handing him a mug.

            "Thieves' Guild members." He replied in a low voice. "I'm not a member, so I'm not sure where Darien's lair is."

            "Lair?"

            "For lack of a better word. He's got a personal tavern somewhere. I've got to find it."

            "What's so important that you have to talk to him?"

            "I'd like to join the Guild." He knocked back most of the mug she had given him. "Only problem is, those that want to join have to complete a task."

            "What kind of task?"

            "A task a lesser thief wouldn't survive."

            Fox sighed, leaning on the bar, looking at the glass he held. He had bought wine, but hadn't drunk any of it yet, though he had paid for the highest quality this tavern had. He was ignoring the noisy crowd, busy wrapped up in his own thoughts.

            O'Donnel had already passed through this city, on his way to the border. At the rate he was traveling, it wouldn't be very long before he reached Andross' forces. According to what Fox had heard, the King's forces had been pushed back, but now there was a bloody stalemate.

            He felt the sword on his hip move, followed by a yelp of pain, and turned. A young man was grimacing in pain, clutching one of his hands. Fox could tell he had been badly burned, and sighed. Why did people keep attempting to steal his katana? He knew it was worth money, but it seemed a rather foolhardy thing to try to steal.

            "Bloody hell." The young man said, shaking his hand. "Bloody black magic!"

            "No, actually." Fox swirled the wine in the glass, then drank some of it, resigned to the fact that this was going to be a long night. "That particular sword is bound to my family line. No one else can handle it."

            "You brought an enchanted weapon HERE?" The thief set his fisted hands on his hips, speaking like it was a beheading offence.

            "Yes, why does it matter?" He turned back to the bar.

            A hand landed heavily on his shoulder. "I don't take kindly to you speaking to my apprentice like that."

            He looked over his shoulder into angry, bloodshot eyes. A jaguar. He blinked once, shrugging off the hand. "I apologize sir. I just didn't take kindly to my weaponry being stolen." He finished the glass of wine and set it on the bar.

            "You a knight?"

            "I'm a paladin. My father was a knight."

            The jaguar laughed harshly. "So you're a holy soldier. Are you a friend of that wolf that came through here? I heard that you were asking about him."

            "Yes I was, and no, I'm not his friend. We have… issues that need settled."

            The jaguar shoved Fox, making him stagger back into a table. "That's what I think of people who associate with that wolf!"

            "That wasn't necessary. I don't associate with him." Fox apologized to those at the table, steadying himself and brushing himself off. "Actually, I'm planning on killing him."

            Utter silence in the area of the tavern that had heard him. Everyone was looking at him.

            He sighed and rubbed his eyes, unable to believe he had said that, true as it was.

            "Well. A mercenary. Working for the king, I suppose? An assassin?"

            "No. Not hardly. I told you. I'm a paladin." He turned and started to walk away, tail swinging.

            He saw someone coming to hit him, and sidestepped, making that person careen into someone else. That was all it took to start a brawl. Fox ducked out of it, taking two strides and leaping, catching the railing of the second level of the tavern and hauling himself up, swinging over it and sitting down by Falco.

            "Do you ever manage to stay out of trouble?" Falco asked, grinning.

            "Usually." Fox shook his head. "I'm not sure what that was about."

            "Obviously someone's decided killing you or beating you might dissuade you from completing whatever your task may be." Said another voice. A well-dressed man about Fox's age appeared. "I'm to escort you from this premises. Someone wishes to speak to you."

            "I owe you." Falco muttered to Fox, looking around. "I was looking for members of the Thieves' Guild to follow, and you get us in."

            "No thanks necessary." Fox muttered back, also looking around. The tavern had the look of an establishment where a lot of money flowed throw it, and at one wall sat a very well dressed middle-aged man, who was having a drink and talking to the various girls who perched around him. "That Darien?"

            "Yes indeed." Falco drew himself up to full height.

            The middle-aged man wove them forward, and the trio obediently walked forward. Katt had come with them, and she looked around warily. They had been disarmed, but the thieves who had done it had quickly figured out that taking her staff or Fox's katana was a bad idea, so they remained armed.

            "Well, then. So, you're the son of well-known knight James McCloud." Darien said by way of openers, looking at Fox. "And you're planning on killing Wolf O'Donnel."

            "Perhaps. If he's difficult." 

            "Uh-huh. And just what do you know about O'Donnel's party?"

            Fox filled Darien in, explaining what he thought had happened. The master thief seemed to agree, though he didn't say anything.

            "Now, about that sword…" Darien eyed the katana. "I'm told no one but you can handle it."

            "That's true."

            "Draw it."

            Fox did, and the supernatural light filled the room. 

            "That would be quite a prize. Smart that such an enchantment is on it." Darien wove a hand. "Sheath it. Now, who might this be?" He turned to look at Katt. "A sorceress? Hmm, and quite a pretty one."

            Falco bristled silently, then stepped forward. "With your permission, Lord Darien."

            "Lord? Ah. You're a thief. And you take offence when I compliment this young lady? Why is that?"

            "I find that to be none of your business, Lord Darien. I was planning on coming here tonight, with or without the help of my traveling companion. I wish to join the Thieves' Guild."

            Fox looked at Falco, then to Katt, and decided he didn't need to know, crossing his arms and listening silently.

            "Well if you're a thief at all you know that I make those who wish to be members face a challenge."

            "Of course. I'm ready to face whatever challenge you set before me."

            "Indeed." Darien stood and walked forward, still looking Katt over. "Would you be interested in joining my… staff, young lady? A magic user would be a quite useful addition."

            "No, thank you."

            "What if I told you that you didn't have a choice?"

            Falco stepped in between Darien and Katt. "Leave her alone, Lord Darien. I came here to join the Guild. Are you going to set me a challenge?"

            "You can't tell me what to do, young thief. I'd like this young lady to work for me, and you can't deny me that."

            "Watch me."

            Darien laughed and clapped his hands. "Well then. The maze. You complete the maze…alive…and you may join the Guild. You fail to complete the maze, I'll release your friend and take this young lady for my staff."

            "Agreed."

            Those sitting around the tavern listening cheered and clapped, and money very quickly started changing hands as bets were made.

            "What exactly is this maze?" Katt asked, watching Falco. He had been returned all his possessions, and was gearing up.

            "Most famous and deadly of all challenges. Lord Darien designed it. I think two people to date have lived through it." Falco replied, pulling gloves on and flexing his fingers absently.

            "But… Why go through it just to defend me?"

            He looked at me. "Call me despicable all you want, Sorceress Monroe, but I respect women. I do. And I take offense if someone speaks to a lady so. So I'm more then glad to defend your honor. Besides," He added, following Darien through the building and down a few flights of stairs. "It's a chance to get in the guild as well."

            She sighed and rubbed her eyes.

            She, Fox, and Lord Darien ended up standing at a barred window that overlooked the first leg of the maze. It didn't look too complicated and dangerous, but there was a liberal amount of bloodstains on the stone floor.

            Money was still exchanging hands. Katt glanced around, and muttered. "I don't believe this, they're betting on how long it'll take him."

            "Actually, love, they're betting on how long he'll live." Darien replied, and gestured. With that, one of his men let Falco into the maze and locked the door behind him.

            Falco crouched on his heels thoughtfully, looking out over the corridor. The maze wasn't actually a maze. It was one path that had one or two turns, and a lot of obstacles. A gauntlet, really, not a maze. Two people had survived it so far.

            He planned to make himself the third.

            The corridor ahead of him seemed to be straight for a good thirty feet—thirty-three, upon closer inspection—and had set back portions alternating sides every three feet or so, where lit torches were. These torches threw patterns of light across the floor. The whole setup was stone, fairly solidly set, but upon closer inspection he had a feeling all surfaces in the corridor were rigged as traps.

            He stood, ignoring the mutters and calls of "get a move on already!" from the barred window, and removed a black pouch from one of his pocket, pouring blue gleaming powder into one hand from it and judging the corridor again.

            "What's that?" Katt frowned, not able to see very well as she was jostled out of the way by the gambling thieves. 

Fox made those shoving her back down with a look. "I'm not sure if it has a real name, but I've heard of it. Falco is a complete magical null—he can't feel magic at all. So, someone along the line came up for something for thieves with his problem. Watch."

Falco blew the powder off his hand, and it flew through the air, actively moving itself along, clinging to the walls, floor, and ceiling. After several moments, patches of these surfaces began to dimly glow.

"Get a magician to help you, Darien?" Falco looked over his shoulder.

"Only the best." Darien smiled grimly. "Well, go on. Let's see just how much of a thief you really are."

Falco marked the glowing spots in his mind as the dust faded out, then cautiously started forward. He felt the rumble, and took a step back as a huge blade came from nowhere, slicing the air then retracting. "Hmm." He wove a hand through the air, got nothing, and crouched to study the floor again. "How many people died right there?" He looked back over his shoulder.

"Many more then you'd care to know."

"Consider me past this point." Falco shoved his hands into the floor, and was rewarded with two razor disks slicing through the air. He picked two torches off the wall and jammed the butt ends into the path of the blades, making them grind to a halt. Then he stood and slipped past them, now standing right before where the light pattern started. Here the stones in the wall changed pattern slightly as well, and he recalled that the powder had lit up a grid pattern.

Studying along the floor, he saw what looked like broken slivers of stone along the edges of the floor. He reached over and picked one up, and saw that they had been carved.

So, that meant… He reached a hand out and flared it in the light.

Phoom! Sharp slivers of stones shot out the wall, on the far edge of light alcoves. They broke on the opposing wall, but Falco had no doubt that they would do damage to a living body.

He wasn't wearing armor, had no shield, had access to nothing that could be used as a shield--he didn't even want to try to use the razor disks.  He repeated the hand motion, and this time saw the slight delay between his hand motion and stone nails firing.

He crouched, readying, and began to sprint all out. He felt the stone nails fly just behind him, felt a couple break and go through his tail…and brought himself to a screeching halt as double-bladed axes fell and rose in a mincing pattern down the second half of the corridor. Using his momentum, he flipped and leapt, walking along the center when their shafts crossed, one after the other. Moments later, he was through that section of the maze.

"Not bad." Darien said blandly. 

"What is this supposed to test?" Katt wanted to know as the group moved to another barred window.

"Love, wizards and royals have some unusual ways of protecting their valuables. I'm just seeing what exactly he can get past."

"There's treasure at the end of this maze, isn't there?" Fox suddenly said, arms folded across his chest.

"Perhaps. What was the rumor you heard, young fighter?"

"I've heard a few, most from Elven thieves. Dragon tear diamonds, enchanted armor and swords…" He shrugged.

"Why would I keep dragon tear diamonds in a thieves' challenge?"

"Perhaps because no one lives through this one?"

Falco was at a T intersection. He looked either way, frowning, then studied the floor. He was guessing that either one was a dead end and the other was the real way, or they were two paths to the same goal, one harder then the other.  Looking at the two ways, he saw no difference superficially, and after much debating, went left. The corridor went that way for ten or so feet, then turned so he was heading in the same direction as he had started. As he progressed, the corridor got darker, light magically suppressed to a dull glow that barely lit the floor. He kept an eye out for pitfalls as he slowly continued.

He came to a dead end, but when he picked a torch off the wall and studied the wall closer, he saw it was exquisitely carved, a lady sphinx sunning herself. He could pick out every hair and feather; whoever had carved this had been a master. A picture of a scroll had been carved under her, and one of her paws rested on the top of it. He moaned out loud when he saw words carved on the scroll. He couldn't read, at least not words, well enough to tell what it said.

"If you wish to proceed any further, you must tell me the answers to my riddles." Said a woman's voice.

He went still, and saw the carving had come to life, looking at him. Given Darien's tricks so far, he wasn't entirely surprised. Sphinxes and riddles were practically synonymous. "I cannot read." He quietly admitted.

"Then I shall read it to you." She stretched a stone wing that he was careful to duck, and started to speak.

"Born Motherless and Fatherless,   
Into this world without a sin   
Made a load roar as I entered   
And never spoke again."

            Falco frowned, crouching on his heels. "Repeat that." The stone sphinx smiled and did. "The last two lines again?" When she had, he tapped his fingers together thoughtfully, then looked up. "Thunder."

            She smiled, and a golden spot of light appeared on the corridor wall to the left. "One you have, two more you need. Ready for the next?"

            "Yes indeed."

"There is a thing that nothing is,   
and yet it has a name.   
It's sometimes tall and sometimes short,   
joins our talks and joins our sports,   
and plays at every game?"

            "A shadow."

            A second golden spot of light appeared, and the sphinx smiled again. "Two you have, one more you need. Do you know what would happen if you missed any of these?"

            "You'd kill me on the spot." Falco replied somewhat sourly.

            "Indeed. It is our way." She sat back, grooming a paw. "Ready for the last?"

            "Go ahead. I've made it this far. No turning back now."

"I never was, am always to be,  
No one ever saw me, nor ever will  
And yet I am the confidence of all  
To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball."

            "Repeat that." When she did, he lapsed deep into thought for several minutes, wracking his brain, then said, "The last two lines?" She smiled, preening quite-sharp stone claws, and did so. "I'm not completely sure, but my best guess is tomorrow."

            She smiled, and the third spot of light appeared on the wall, and it opened, letting him into the last section of the maze.

            The wall closed behind him, and he was stunned to find a room full of winged keys. On the other side of the room was as a door.

            Falco stared up at the keys that flapped through the air, a little dumbfounded. Large and small, they flapped through the air, and now he noticed the door had a lock.

            Click.

            He snapped his head around, and saw an hourglass had turned, and saw the sand running out.

            "Bloody hell." He cursed, shoving his way through the keys. He had let himself become distracted, and he was being timed. God only knew what was going to happen to him when time ran out—for all he knew, the sphinx would come in and gore him. He knelt by the lock, not bothering to snatch after the flying keys, and pulled his lock picks out of his pocket, setting to work. It was a complex lock, but Falco had done the sort before, and soon the door swung open, and he entered a treasure room.

            He stood there and gaped as the door closed behind him, staring around at the immense riches that were piled around him. His hands itched, but he regained control of himself, focusing on finding what his task was. The treasure room was sealed. There was something here he was supposed to find.

            He walked up the main corridor, looking around, hands still itching at the sight of the immense wealth. After many moments, he stood before three pedestals, each with a different valuable item on them. Two words he did understand were carved on the wall behind them: choose wisely.

            "Choose wisely… right…" He looked at the three items, and his eyes fell on a sword not unlike Fox's Katana, but the hilt was carved in a fire design, as was the sheath. He reached out and picked it up, loosely clasping the hilt, ready to drop it if it burned him. Studying it closer, he knew exactly what it was—a Dragon's Fire sword, one of the most sought-after things to steal because of their worth. What exactly they did, Falco wasn't entirely sure, but he knew he could live out most of his life a rich man if he sold it to the right person.

            A hatch on the ceiling opened, and a rope ladder descended. Still holding the sword, he climbed the ladder, feeling very smug indeed.

            "Well done, young thief." Darien said by way of congratulations. Falco stood in the center of the room he, Fox, and Katt had started out in, and many of the other thieves looked disappointed—they had apparently lost a lot of money on their bets. "Very well done. I stand by my word, your lady friend is safe, and you're now a member of the Guild."

            Falco couldn't help but grin. He knew that was proof he was a top-notch thief. He was going to stun his fellows when he returned to the capitol.

            "That said, would you be so kind as to return my property?" Darien stood and held out a hand.

            Falco looked at the sword he still held. He had become rather attached to it somehow. "Lord Darien, I went through the maze for this, and I've been told that if a thief lives through the maze, they can keep the prize."

            "That's the rumor I let circulate, because it keeps people trying. Now if you please?" Darien stepped off the dais, still holding out his hand.

            "You let a LIE circulate? What about Thieves' Honor?" Falco demanded, taking steps back.

            "My dear Guild member, do you really think I would have amassed all of this if I had been honorable?"

            Falco felt fury boil in his veins. So it had been a lie all along, and the man who had invented Thieves' Honor didn't even practice it himself, just used to take advantage of his fellows. The Guild didn't look so high and glorious anymore, and Falco focused on one thing: keeping what he had retrieved. "I don't know what to think anymore, but I went through all your tests, and I am KEEPING this sword."

            "Well, the rest of the guild disagrees with you. Besides, I'm telling you now young man, it's in your best interest to give up that sword. Funny things, Dragon Fire swords are… completely dangerous. Most of the time, the wielder ends up dead because the sword goes out of control."

            "Out of control?"

            "Why do you think they're called Dragon Fire swords? The spirit of a dragon is bound to that blade!" Darien took a few steps closer. "Now I'm saying it only once more. Give me that sword."

            Falco stared down at the sword he held, and felt a righteous power rise in his veins, an indignant fury at being ordered around. "No!"

            "For God's sake Falco just…" Katt started, but it was too late.

            Several members of the Guild lunged at Falco, and thunder cracked through the air. Those who hadn't thrown arms or hands up to shield their eyes saw Falco arc his back, then suddenly pull the sword, bringing it around in a vicious circle, warning those lunging at him to stay back. A massive aura-shadow surrounded him, and for a second bright golden-yellow eyes glowed above his head.

            Then silence descended, and he fell to a crouch, propping himself on one hand, holding the sword so it was behind him, propped along the small of his back. He stood after several moments with difficulty, lacing the scabbard onto his belt and sheathing the sword, a very final act, clearly saying no one was taking it from him.

            "I tried to warn you." Darien said tiredly. "But in a way, I guess that would be a good thing. You're going to be visiting Andross' territory, you're going to need all the help you can get."

            "Thank you sir." Falco grinned.

            "You're welcome." Darien tossed him a guild cape. "Now if you would please leave, I'd like to have some peace and quiet."

            "Gladly."

            Fox and Katt's missing equipment was returned, and they left the tavern.


	5. Chapter Five: For a Perfect Heart

Section Five: For a Perfect Heart

            When the group left New Hope the morning after Falco joined the Guild, they numbered six.

            Bill Grey, having been giving a word of approval from the local healer and gotten a horse from the local guard station, had asked to join the group. Peppy, meanwhile, had had a long discussion at the guard station as well, and came back in armor. He had brought some of his old armor along, and had picked up the rest at the station. How exactly he had convinced the local head guard to do it, Fox didn't care to know.

            Fox knew they looked to be a strange group as they left, this belief confirmed when citizens watched them leave, standing in the street or looking out windows. A paladin, a knight, a fighter, a thief, a sorceress, and a mage. Truly a strange group, but they had an advantage over whomever they'd fight, because of the diversity.

            "It seems we'll be able to take one of several paths." Fox later said. They had stopped to the side of the main road, and he had pulled out a map. "Any of these will get us to our destination, but the hazards are different."

            "Hazards?" Falco asked, frowning. The road forked off, then split again farther on. 

            "Local wildlife." Said Katt. "Depending on what road we take, we'll go through foothills, mountains, forests, or fields. Each has their own dangerous inhabitants, and we're going to be in the wilds for quite a while. The next large city is a stronghold at a mountain pass, then there's almost nothing until the boarder."

            "Which is where the battles are." Bill finished.

            "Correct." Fox frowned at the map. "And the most direct path may be the most dangerous, or may be the safest."

            "How so?" Peppy leaned over Slippy's shoulder to see the map better.

            "The most direct path would be through the forest, here, then go through some of the mountains directly to the stronghold." He traced the path on the map. "And whether or not it is safe really depends on what lives there."

            "Let's take the most direct path, then, because all of them are likely to be dangerous somehow." Said Katt, brushing her hair back.

            "Mm. Aren't there dragons in this mountain range?" Falco asked, tracing it on the map.

            Fox looked at him. "I'm not sure, are there?"

            Silence for a moment, and everyone looked at Falco.

            "What do you mean? How should I know?" He said defensively. "It's just a question."

            "Well, then. I can't say for sure. There might be." Fox rubbed his chin. "Red dragons and copper dragons are the two species that usually roost in mountains."

            "What's the difference?"

            "Chromatic dragons are evil."

            "Oh. Right. So what does chromatic mean?" Falco gave Fox a look.

            "Colored. Red dragons are evil. Copper dragons, on the other hand, are good. At least, that's the general belief. We're more likely to get attacked by red, at least." He rolled the map, swinging back into the saddle as the rest did.

            "Copper… Hmm." 

            "That's probably what species of dragon inhabits your sword." Fox gave Falco a look. "Considering you already knew that there were dragons in the mountains."

            "Not red, eh?"

            "No. That dragon spirit is acting as a guardian force over you, so its beliefs can influence yours. I'm sure a few of us would have been killed in our sleep if you had taken on the beliefs of a red dragon."

            "Ah. And how do you know so much about this?"

            "My father once harbored a guardian force, Falco." 

            "Quetzalcoatl." Said Peppy.

            "Aye." Fox sighed, and didn't say anything else for a while.

            "When do we reach the next town?" Slippy asked, tinkering with something he had pulled out of his saddlebags.

            "Early to late morning, depends when we move out." Fox was looking at the map again. "Mostly what we're going to travel through are small farming villages. Katt's correct, the next city with any size is the stronghold."

            "I don't like this."

            Everyone looked at Falco. He was standing separate from the rest of the group, looking out toward the horizon and the border. The collar of his Guild cape was turned up, and it was fluttering in the wind.

            "Don't like what?" Peppy asked, testing the edge on his broadsword.

            "Something doesn't feel right." He looked at Fox. "Is this what you were talking about when you said you could feel that the forest was enchanted? Can you feel that?"

            Fox frowned, pressing his fingertips together and half-closing his eyes. "I just hear an echo, or something akin to it. Plenty of creatures are magical."

            "That may be true, but…." Falco sighed, then shrugged. "Forget it. It's probably nothing."

            It was mid-morning when the party reached the next village. It was small and very beautiful, plainly the people here had a lot of pride in what they had.

            However, when the six entered the town, the looks thrown their way were nervous and scared.

            "Who sent you, kind sirs and madam?" Inquired a voice. A village man walked up, apparently the mayor.

            "No one sent us. We're on the side of the King, though. We're on our way to the border." Said Peppy, leaning an arm on the pommel of his saddle. 

            "Well then, you might be just the people to assist us." The man, a middle-aged collie, ran his fingers through the fur on his scalp. "If you are willing to listen?"

            "Please."

            "Then dismount and follow me to the tavern. It would be the best place to talk."

            "Who exactly is in charge of this group?" The collie asked, looking around at the six. They had sat around a table.

            "I am, currently." Said Fox. "What is it that you need assistance with?"

            "We've got a slight problem." The collie spread a map out on the table. "There's another village half a day's ride ahead on this road, and a few more after that before you reach the mountains. We've lost all contact with them."

            "Lost all contact." Falco echoed. "Meaning what?"

            "We've sent messages via every route we can think of. Every pigeon and messenger we send never comes back. And a few days ago, we saw a column of smoke rise from that area. It's the wrong time of year to be burning fields." He sighed. "We aren't soldiers here, gentlemen and lady. We'd be very much in you debt to see if these villages fare well."

            "The path we're taking doesn't take us by all these villages. However," Fox said, standing and tracing the road with his finger. "We will pass through the next one before we turn and travel through the forest. We will investigate there. Suffice to say that if anything horrible has happened to that village, it has probably happened to the ones closer to the mountains as well."

            "Fair enough. You're going to travel through the forest?" Now the collie looked even more worried. "Dear me, that isn't a very good idea… many dangerous things live in that forest…"

            "Thank you for your concern, but I believe we should be able to take care of it. Anything else you wish to discuss?"

            "Do you think that Andross' soldiers have gotten farther then what is known?" Katt asked, looking out toward the horizon.

            "I don't believe so. At least, not his formal soldiers." Fox replied, frowning. He glanced at Falco, who nodded once. "Although it's very possible that a portion of Andross' forces could have crossed the border. As far as I have heard, Andross is a powerful sorcerer."

            Peppy nodded. "Very powerful, and a dark sorcerer at that."

            "Which means what?" Falco asked, looking out toward the mountains absently.

            "Evil begets evil, Falco." Slippy filled in. "He'd have sent out messages to every evil race on the planet, asking for help in exchange for something else."

            "The chromatic dragons?"

            "Not just them I'd think… And I think that the mayor's fears were correct." Fox suddenly pulled his horse to a stop, nose twitching, staring off in the direction of the town.

            The others didn't need him to say anything else. They saw the circling, black carrion birds in the distance, and smelled the smoke.

            Fox stood on the hill overlooking the village, loosely holding his reins in one hand, staring down. The village was desecrated. What few buildings that were still standing were burned and crumbling. All the surrounding fields had been burned. Not only that, it was easy to see limp forms sprawled on the ground, hanging from burned rafters and trees.

            "Survivors?" Bill asked hoarsely.

            "There won't be any." Fox replied heavily, starting forward, still leading his horse.

            "What could have done this?" Slippy asked, magic flaring off of him as he cast spells to ward off evil. Though it was a good thought, the whole town seemed saturated, dripping with malignant power.

            "Any number of magical beings." Peppy said, voice cold and calm. "What exactly did this is an enigma to me."

            "The man who knows everything hasn't an answer." Falco sighed, crouching and rolling a body over. It was a young woman, and she had been completely gored, chest cavity ripped open and heart removed. Her expression was frozen in speechless horror and pain. He sighed and brushed a hand over her face, closing her eyes, then slowly standing. "They're all like this…"

            Fox leapt, pulling himself onto a burned rafter, then hung by one arm, cutting down what bodies were hung, one by one. He had been correct. There were no survivors. The town was completely destroyed.

            They gathered the bodies they could find at what was left of the church, then met in the town square in front of it.

            "Perytons." Fox suddenly said, lifting a hand to rub his chin. "Perytons did this."

            "Parry-tons?" Falco repeated. "That's familiar somehow."

            "I believe everyone has heard about the Peryton race in some way. They're a clan of evil beings that wishes nothing more then to hunt humans to tear out and consume their hearts." 

Peppy's eyes lit up with recognition. "I remember now. It's their belief. They think they will be better for it if they could find that one perfect heart."

"What do they look like?" Katt asked.

"Picture, if you will, a gigantic eagle with the head of a demonic stag." Peppy crouched and picked up a stick, sketching a rough outline. "Fox's father and I never had to fight them, but we heard tales from other knights about them. My guess is that they've been hitting every city from the mountains to here, in a chain." 

"Every town? But that means…" Slippy trailed off, and the group looked at each other. "Oh, my god." He finally whispered.

"We move out now." Fox swung onto his horse, which snorted and pranced in place. The mare had been loosing her brown color, oddly enough, becoming lighter and lighter. Fox sighed when he noticed—his father hadn't taught him that spell—and hoped that he'd meet an elf in the forest who could correct the problem. "If we ride hard, we can get there by nightfall." With that, he threw the torch he had been holding, and the church lit up in a massive cremation ceremony.

"Mama!" Wailed a thin voice through the smoke, broken by coughing. "Mama…"

The mayor picked the child up, crouching inside the church. The entire city was under siege by the most demonic creatures he had ever seen. The farmers had lit fire to fields to attempt to obscure the beasts' vision, but the fire had spread to parts of the town. Crouching there, he could hear screams from outside. It was becoming obvious to him now exactly what had happened to every other town, and what was now happening to his. The chances of winning were slim against such foul beasts.

There was a crash, and one of the beasts came through one of the stained glass windows of the church, screeching horribly, flapping huge wings and staying above the floor. What refugees were crouching inside the building screamed and cowered, hands up to cover the back of their necks, crying.

Another crash resounded, but this time, it wasn't a horrible scream that came, but a roar of defiance. Looking up, the mayor saw one of the travelers that had come through his town not long ago, still on horseback, brandishing a pair of swords and ringed by an intense aura. His mare reared, screaming challenge at the demonic beast, kicking flashing hooves, then without prompting charged. The beast screamed back, flapping higher and swinging its demonic rack of antlers at the rider, then screeched as one of the rider's swords cut right through both antlers. The beast dove, and the rider went with it, tumbling off the horse and to the floor. But when the beast went to scream triumph over the rider, the sword went up, and the beast screamed and writhed as the rider effortlessly stabbed right through the demonic bird, standing and throwing the body across the room.

The rider stood there for a moment, still loosely holding both swords, then looked over his shoulder at the mayor. It was the fox that had been leading the party.

"You came back to help us." The mayor said numbly.

"Of course." Was the simple reply. "We would not have had it any other way." He swung back into his saddle, and without prompting the horse turned and leapt out one of the broken windows, into combat.

In the start, the pack of Perytons had numbered over a dozen. They didn't work well together, only teaming up so they would have a better chance at finding that one perfect heart. It had been effortless so far. The towns hadn't had anything to defend themselves with. But now, a new force had been added, and the Perytons were forced to regroup above the town, straining to see. There, in the clear center of the town. A group of six, waiting. Only one remained on horseback, and the horse reared, screaming challenge at them. The rider's aura flashed and flared, and he pointed one of his swords at them. Challenging them.

They dove as one, then some dropped lower, charging along the ground instead of from above. They were met with sharp blades, arrows, and magic, two falling before any of them got within striking distance.

Peppy crouched in a doorway, putting arrows to his bow and firing again and again. He had brought his poisons with, even though he hated using them now, and now they were saving his team. His shots were accurate, and he took down three of them by himself and wounded others. Katt and Slippy crouched beside him, casting spells to assist their team members. Fox, Falco, and Bill were facing their enemy head on, Fox still on horseback, the other two on the ground, backs turned toward each other. Falco was doing massive damage in passing, he had managed to take wings and clawed feet off as the Perytons dove past him. Falco struck first, Bill would go in for the kill. Fox fought on his own, charging his enemy. The mare he rode seemed as eager to fight as he was, charging then rearing to strike with sharp-looking hooves. 

The Perytons regrouped, now numbering only six and most wounded, looking down at the group, which waited patiently for the next attack. They fanned out to surround the group, then suddenly dove, four charging along the ground two attacking from above. They focused on the three fighters, especially on the two on the ground. Bill was knocked to the ground by the massive wings, and Falco was forced into a crouch, warning the beasts away with his sword.

The smoke that had plagued the town from the start suddenly blew away, and massive clouds gathered over the town. Lightning crackled, and Fox snapped his head up, eyes wide in surprise. Then the entire town seemed to freeze as a bolt of lightning struck the ground.

Fox charged forward, stopping only to pull Falco and Bill to their feet and out of the way as more bolts hit the ground, and a spinning form appeared, unwrapping to become a bird. Massive wings spread out, and it surveyed the Perytons, then struck forward with its head. Lightning appeared, striking in a glowing circle, then an explosion rocked the ground. The Perytons screamed, first in anger then in pain, and fell.

Fox shielded his eyes with his arm, looking up at the massive bird. "You aren't my guardian force."

I did this as a favor to your father. I could not prevent his death but I can help prevent yours.

He sighed and bowed his head. "We were winning Quetzalcoatl."

_Just so._

The bird disappeared, and the thunderstorm faded away.

The group reformed around Fox, who now stood dismounted. His horse nosed him once, and he patted her neck absently.

"I take it you didn't call it to you." Peppy said.

"No. Quetzalcoatl is not my guardian force, it was my father's. I don't have a guardian force." Fox sighed. "Is anyone wounded?"

All five shook their heads, Bill rubbing where a Peryton had given him a knock behind the ear.

Slowly, townspeople appeared, gathering in the streets. It looked like the majority had lived through the attack.

"Thank you." The collie said, standing nearby, still holding the little girl. "We are in your debt."

"Not at all." Fox replied. "It would probably be wise if you were to leave here and go to one of the larger cities, such as New Hope. They have strongholds and could protect against these beings, should they try again." Fox looked at the bodies of the Perytons and felt remorse. Not that they had died, no, but that an entire race could be so misguided.

"We will pack and leave at first light." Swore the collie. "And you will travel on?"

"Yes." Fox nodded once. "We too will leave at first light."

The collie watched in amazement. This small group, apparently vigilantes, had not only returned to help, but they stayed, and helped the town get ready to leave. They packed wagons, rounded up horses that had bolted, bandaged wounds. The leader of the group—who introduced himself as McCloud—helped as much or more as his group, apparently not willing just to watch and command like most unit leaders. After all was done and the townspeople were relatively comfortable and sheltered for the night, the collie looked out and saw McCloud standing in the town square, still awake, now checking over his team again and watering their horses. As he watched, McCloud ran a hand over his horse's coat and looked at his hand, and sighed.

The collie, named Derrick, left the tavern and joined McCloud. "I wanted to thank you again for coming back."

"And as I said before. It is nothing." Fox replied, rubbing his eyes. The rest of his team had already settled down. He was still awake, not willing to go to sleep yet.

"You saved our lives, yet refuse any sort of payment, or even a debt?" Derrick raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. That is my way." He unsheathed one of his swords and tested the edge. A supernatural light rose off the blade of the katana as he cleaned it.

"Is it their way as well?" Derrick gestured at the rest of Fox's team.

"Perhaps." Was the reply. "I have my own code I follow. We all do. We just have come to terms on… a few things."

"Ah. And now you're on the way to fight in the war. Well, I must say from what I saw you'll do well."

"Thank you, but that is not my goal." 

"Then what is, young man?" He asked, now mildly exasperated.

"Mayor, my father died dishonored. I am doing this to clear his name. The guardian force Quetzalcoatl appeared tonight because once upon a time that was my father's guardian force." Fox sighed. "You should get some rest. As must I."

"Very well then. I'll see you at first light."

"Good night." Fox walked away and joined his group, though from what Derrick saw, he was by far the last asleep of the six.

Fox woke up far before dawn, sweat pouring down his back and temples. He sprang to his feet easily in one powerful contortion of his body, running his fingers through his hair. "Nightmares." He muttered to himself, then shook off, assembling his things and getting ready to leave. Some parts of the town were already stirring, getting ready to leave to New Hope.

"Well, good morning. Didn't sleep well, I take it?" Derrick glanced at the young man.

"Not anymore. Far too much on my mind." He replied. "Is there anything I can do to assist?"

"No I don't think so. Go ahead and assemble your team."

Fox nodded and turned away, nudging Falco awake, then Bill. Peppy was stirring, and Slippy was helping Katt check on a few wounds they had bandaged the day before.

"Morning already?" Falco said around a yawn.

"By definition." Fox replied. "We have to move out."

"All right." He got up clumsily.

Not long later, the two parties went their separate ways. Derrick and Fox shook hands before the groups parted, nodding to each other. 

"Thank you again, Sir McCloud." Derrick said as a goodbye.

"Our pleasure. May you have a safe journey." Fox nodded once, and led his group away, toward the mountains.

"Who was he exactly?" Asked one of the surviving townsmen, watching them leave.

"All I know is his last name is McCloud."

"Wasn't there a rather well-known Knight named McCloud? One of the crusaders?"

"I believe so. Wonder if it's any relation. Ah, well. Let's go. I don't want to stay here any longer then I have to." With that, Derrick turned his horse and led them toward New Hope.


	6. Chapter Six: Mage's Challenge

Section Six: Mage's Challenge

            By early evening, the group had reached the forest.

            "I agree with the mayor of that town." Katt remarked, looking around. "We should not be here."

            The entire forest was shrouded with a darkness that not even lamps and torches seemed to penetrate. The footsteps of their horses were muffled, and trails of fog curled over the ground. Even the trees seemed to be affected; they rattled dead and dying leaves overhead.

            Fox sighed and urged his horse forward. In this dark place, his very party glowed a bit against the wrongness of this place. Something was happening here; he felt it in the air, it grated against his skin and very soul. What he wasn't sure of, though.

            "How far have we to go?" Peppy inquired.

            "In this forest? A day to two days travel." Fox replied, looking at the map he carried. The others had noticed it tended to orient on where the party was, and was currently only showing the forest. "It depends on how fast we travel and if we run into any trouble."

            The party had stopped next to a stream to water and rest their horses. Fox's mare snuffled at the water, then walked over and began to nudge Fox. He glanced at the others, then sighed. "All right, then. All right." He unbuckled all the tack the mare wore, and she turned and dove into the creek.

            "What did you do that for?" Falco asked, surprised.

            "Just watch." Fox sighed.

            The mare rolled, plainly washing, then stood and shook off. Her brown color was mere beige in the darker spots, though there were streaks of brown still through her mane and tail. She glanced at Fox, tilting her head.

            "Not quite." He replied.

            She nodded with a snort and dove back into the water.

            "That horse understands what you say?" Bill sputtered.

            "Of course. She isn't exactly a horse." He replied tiredly.

            The next time the mare emerged from the stream, she was blazing white in color, hooves, mane, and tail toned soft silver. She shook off and snorted, then walked back up to Fox, looking at the others. A small, spiral horn peeked out from the forelock of her mane.

            "A… a… UNICORN?" Now Falco was sputtering.

            "Yes." Fox pulled currycombs from his pack and set to work, brushing the mare dry. Fine steam rose from her; she was apparently drying herself as well. "I ended up with her as a steed when I was sixteen. Paladins can call a steed." He paused. "I wasn't exactly expecting a unicorn to show up the next day, patiently waiting for me to wake up. Surprised my father as well.  He asked one of his Elven friends to disguise her as a normal horse. What you just witnessed was the rest of the spell wearing off."

            Silence for a moment, then a demented smile spread over Falco's face.

            "Er, Fox… Forgive me if I'm wrong, but isn't it supposed to be that only virgin women can ride or even handle unicorns?"

            Katt tittered.

            Fox actually laughed, long and loud, leaning on his unicorn and looking over his shoulder at the rest of the group, a grin plastered over his face. "That's why it's called a legend, Falco. And mostly, it's true… Mostly. Evil paladins sometimes ride black unicorns, so why can't a lawful one ride a white one?"

            "Makes sense." Peppy raised his eyebrows at Fox. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Fox smile like that. Fox had always been so somber; it was a real event that made him grin or laugh.

            "We out to prove legend wrong or what?" Falco asked as the group mounted up.

            "You never know." Said a voice from nowhere, as a group of dark-skinned elves, most lupine, dropped out of trees and surrounded the group.

            Slippy glanced nervously around. He was sitting by a fire, under a 'tree house'. The rest of his group was elsewhere, where exactly he wasn't sure.

            A trio of elves, dressed as archers, was watching him closely. There were runes carved all over the dark wood of their bows, and their clothes were rough and simple. Wood elves, Katt had hissed to the others before they had been split up. Not necessarily bad.

            The evil pressed here too, but it was lighter, not as heavy and ominous. He nervously tapped his fingers together, and started drawing glyphs in the air to ward off evil.

            "I wouldn't if I were you." Said one of the archers sharply.

            He dropped his hand, waving it to dismiss the half-drawn glyphs that glowed in midair, taking a closer look at the three archers. Two lupine, one feline, all focused on him.

            He took an idle moment why only he had been separated from the group. His race? Surely not. Because he was a magic user? It couldn't be that either; Katt was a Sorceress, and Fox and Peppy could also cast limited magic. Besides, he was, as far as Mages went, very weak. He often longed for something to amplify his power, but knew that was nearly impossible.

            There didn't seem any logical reason for him to be waiting there, so he sat and watched the fire, mind wandering, trying to make sense of it all.

            "Where's our last comrade?" Fox demanded, crossing his arms.

            "Safe, don't worry." The leader of the Elven town, an older lupine, was standing only a few feet in front of him, arms also crossed.  "Now why, exactly, were you in our territory?"

            "Merely passing through. We paused to rest. Had you left us to our business, we would be gone by now." 

            "Perhaps. But we need your assistance."

            Fox blinked and tilted his head slightly, trying to decipher what exactly the elf was thinking. "Really?" He asked, now speaking Elven.

            "Really." The elf switched languages as he did, then switched back. "We've been in a bit of a territory war as of recent. Andross' press is well felt here. Perhaps you noticed?"

            "We did the moment we entered this place."

            "We've been feeling it a while, and some of the beings around it have taken Andross' beliefs to heart, unfortunately. We, however, are neutral beings, and side with good when needed." The elf rubbed his chin. "And we've got a problem, which we noticed your friend could help us with."

            "Because he is a Mage? Most of us can use magic."

            "Aye, but Mage, Sorceress, and Arcane archers/fighters are different things." He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "One of the nearby villages fell quickly to Andross' wiles, and they have in their possession one of our most valuable artifacts, locked into a cave. We need your comrade's help to retrieve it. One of our Seers tagged him the moment she saw him."

            "I imagine he'd agree. But why separate him from us?"

            "Because we wanted to see if he could sense the disturbance."

            Slippy frowned and stood, staring off. Something was… wrong. More wrong then before. A gathering, a rumble-pulse, a silent thunder. It jarred off his magic senses, ringing in his mind and heart. But it wasn't evil, no. It was … misguided good?

            He took a step toward it, head down and eyes closed, gesturing with one hand without noticing. The archers took a step back, gaze sharpening, watching him. They could feel the power flash off him, searching, trying to find the disturbance.

            _Death…_

            He jerked his head back, shaking it vigorously, seeing blood splatter from sacrifices, the King's men fall on the front lines of the battles, vicious dragons raining explosive fire onto the battlefield. The King, no matter how he denied it, was loosing the war.

            Slippy could see the truth as bold as daylight.

            Then he was suddenly on the ground kneeling, holding himself up, shaking off.

            Familiar hands assisted him. His team, all looking at him with odd expressions—concerned, respectful, surrounded him. Respectful of… him? He had never been respected, even as a Mage! He wasn't even all that powerful.

            "Will you help us?" An older elf was with them, and addressed him without preamble.

             He stared off toward the silent thunder, gaze distant. "I don't think I have a choice."

            "This is insane." Falco hissed, watching the elves warily.

            "Perhaps." Slippy was pouring over tomes the elves had provided him with, almost completely focused on his task, nimble fingers flipping pages, signing to himself with one hand, training himself to new glyphs and gestures. "But if we can help prevent evil from spreading over the land, shouldn't we?"

            "Indeed." Said Fox. He stood off to one side, watching this whole endeavor silently, sometimes talking to the head elf or his seconds in command.  "We should do everything in our power to prevent it."

            "What exactly do you have to get, anyway?" Bill asked. He had been practicing swordplay with a few of the Elven fighters, proving himself to be good and his competitors to be just as good.

            "It's a staff." Said Peppy. "The Crest of the Hippogriff."

            "I've heard of it." Katt said. "Magic mastery, isn't it?"

            "Something like that. Neutral magic, mostly. Magic creature control is one of its fine points." Fox said.

            "Magic creature… DRAGONS?" Falco gawped.

            "Including those. I think it specializes toward winged creatures."

            "That's what all these say." Said Slippy, standing. "Where does the rest of my team come in?" He asked the head elf.

            The elf grinned. "I'm afraid the rest of us are going into battle."

            "What?" Peppy gave the elf a sharp look. "You could have informed us earlier, we've had no time to prepare."

            "That's how life usually works." The elf sighed. "In order to give him enough time to retrieve that artifact, we need to distract the tribe that holds it. They've fallen to evil, so we have to release their souls."

            "In other words, kill them." Falco's voice took on an odd timbre, powerful and booming.

            "Don't channel the spirit unless you need it." Fox told him sharply, startling him. "Otherwise it'll take you over."

            "What? What'd I do?" Falco gave him a sorely confused look.

            He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "When do we depart?"

            "Now. Mount up. Slippy, one of my best guides will take you to the cave." And with that, the elf leapt, disappearing into the trees.

            Slippy panted, running to catch up with the guide. The lady elf strode effortlessly along, seemingly unaware that while Slippy was strong because of blacksmithing, he had little stamina, and was soon left behind.

            He leaned on a tree, wheezing, trying to catch his wind. The guide stopped and looked back at him, hair flying wildly around her face as she turned on her heel. Waiting impatiently.

            "You're going to fast." He panted to her when she came closer.

            "We have to." She said irritably. "We don't have much time."

            He grunted, hefting himself upright and nodding once. She took off again, him following as fast as his lungs allowed, wondering wildly what the rest of the team was doing.

            _'Closer… closer … closer…'_ Peppy thought, lining up an arrow. With some help from the elves, he was perched in a tree, arrow notched. A brief mutter, and the arrow glowed slightly, then dulled, spell contained and waiting. He didn't need to glance down and around; he knew where his team was.

            Yells came, and the advance scout of the tribe they were working with charged in, running as fast as they could. The fallen tribe had taken the bait, and were chasing after them at full speed, arrows flying after them. Peppy caught the dull glint of moonlight off Fox's unicorn's horn as she lowered her head, ready to charge. Fox had his hands on his swords, tense, ready. He was in tune, could hear Falco's heavy breathing almost directly under him, could sense Katt's gathering powers in the tree across from him.

            _'Closer, closer, closer…' _He felt a tension gather, the whole group feeling it, ready and waiting.

            '_NOW!'_

As Peppy loosed arrows onto the advance members of the fallen tribe, Fox's unicorn charged them head on, goring one with her horn as Fox pivoted and swung. Magic bolts rained down as Bill and Falco leapt into the fray, and suddenly the advance members of the fallen tribe were no more.

            Falco managed a half grin and stepped back into the foliage, sword sheathed and waiting. Bill did the same, hiding as best he could. Fox stayed in the clearing; he could tell that the fallen tribe had read a declaration of war into the assault, and could hear heavy mounted soldiers coming.

            "Ready." Fox said, voice low and rumbling. His unicorn lowered her head and pawed the ground, eager for more action, blood dripping off her horn.

            "Ready." Falco said, the dragon's boom coming into his voice again.

            "Ready." Bill said, voice severe and military.

            "Ready." Katt said, higher and lighter then the rest.

            "Ready." Peppy finished, lining up more arrows, growling again to recast spells.

            The front line of the full-out charge hit them. This was how Fox knew that they were corrupt. These weren't the right tactics, this was Andross pressuring them, influencing them. If there were any coming through the trees, they were intercepted by the tribe they were working with. It seemed what was on the ground was their problem, he mused as he swordfought on horseback, his unicorn screaming challenge at the black steeds of the riders. But he didn't like death without a cause.

            He just prayed this distraction was going as planned.

            Slippy muffled a yelp as he fell down the hole, suddenly sitting on a cold stone floor and staring up at a hole in the top of a small cavern. His guide dropped down moments later, falling to a crouch.

            Pain passed over her face. "I'm not supposed to be here." She managed to him. "Follow the corridor. You'll find what you need." Then she leapt, catching the edge of the hole and hauling herself out.

            Slippy cast light spells quickly, then as many spells to ward off evil as he could think off, then proceeded forward, looking around. The corridor was long, carvings worn to the point of incoherency long ago. It was cold, cold enough to see his breath, all warmth pressed out of this place by something else.

            Misguided good?

            He continued forward, the circle of his lights growing smaller, keeping spells ready in his mind, some of them he wasn't even sure if he could cast. As he progressed, the carvings grew clearer, until they looked brand new. None of them were good or right, not now. He saw they had been altered to serve dark purposes; Andross' mark was strong here.

            Finally he reached the end of the corridor, pressing the doors open and entering a chamber. It looked like a church, but one long deserted, and sitting at the podium was a carved ebony staff, set with jewels. 

            He made his way forward, feeling the magic press even more, but tried to ignore the darkness, shaking it off.

            "Why are you here?!" Demanded a voice, and a small form came out of nowhere. He staggered back as the small form hit him, using its momentum to try to knock him down. "Go AWAY!"

            He found himself staring down at a small child with filthy clothing and black, wild eyes. The child stared up at him defiantly, making a quick gesture.

            "GO AWAY!"

            Slippy yelped as the already worn stone wall that was at the back of the underground church crashed in, a bone dragon bearing down on him. He mindlessly cast spells, until finally a 'destroy undead' spell sent the skeletal dragon crashing around him, smashing several pews and somehow managing not to harm him and the child.

            "Uncle Andross said he needed this!" The child threw a fit, protecting the staff, magic far too great for his age flaring off him. "You can't have it!"

            Misguided good.

            Slippy blocked the spells, taking the child under one arm and restraining him with magic ropes, picking up the staff slowly. Magic jolted him, but he brushed it off. It was cold, seductive magic. The staff was corrupted. He set his jaw and left the evil church, still carrying the child.

            His guide pulled the child up, then him. The little boy sat on the ground and sobbed as they studied the staff, then, before they could stop him, pulled a knife and killed himself.

            His guide wordlessly gathered the small body in her arms, tears gathering in her eyes, but not flowing. "Andross must pay for this." She whispered. "Using… children…"

            Slippy couldn't agree more, still carrying the staff as they went to the source of the battle cries.

            _Death._

            He was jolted again by visions of the battles, staggering and leaning against a tree, tightening his grip on the staff.  He staggered forward, and fell, feeling the impact of the fall and seeing red wash over his vision, blinking blood from his eyes as he still clutched the corrupted staff. His guide set the body down and knelt beside him, asking questions he couldn't answer, hands full of glowing magic.

            _Use me._

            He looked blindly at the staff. It whispered to him, calling to him. No wonder that little boy had felt it, he had been a natural magic user, and susceptible to it. Now he was. What was going on?

            _Use me._

            He slowly stood, using the staff to prop himself up, blinking the last of the blood from his eyes, shaking. His guide said something to him, but he was listening to ancient voices, and muttered at her in the same language: go away, I'm trying to think. She blanched, clearly not understanding, then realization dawned on her face, and she tried to take the staff.

            _NO!_

            He pulled it back from her and began to run toward the battlefield, holding the staff above his head. Magic gathered in visible spirals around the head of it, pulsing, calling.

            He landed right in the middle of the fray, stood, and held it the sky.

            A green dragon came out of nowhere, bearing down on the battle and opening its mouth. Superheated steam and a touch of fire wounded and killed the fallen tribe, damaged trees, soaked the ground.

            The dragon turned and gained altitude, now going for the fallen tribe's village.

            Slippy stood there numbly, hearing only the shout of power, the seduction of evil and death, the yell of ancient voices… then saw Fox looking at him.

            That look…

            He screeched and threw the staff away, like it burned him. No! He shook off his hands, going into a state of trance, purging himself of the evil taint as best he could. When he came back to reality, he was standing in the middle of the clearing. The forest was silent, the staff still laying on the ground, everyone looking at him.

            "It's corrupted." He said, voice chill.

            "Aye. We saw." Said the elf.

            "And you fought the corruption." Fox dismounted, patting Slippy on the shoulder. "I suppose that's why you were the only one who could retrieve it. Only you could fight off the power."

            "I guess so." Slippy looked at the staff, revolted, more determined then ever to turn the tide of battle. "Andross is winning."

            "I know." Fox looked off toward the battlefield. "We move as soon as we are able." He looked at the elf. "Well, we upheld our side of the bargain. What's yours?"

            "Our treaty." The elf handed Slippy a carved whistle. "If you ever need us in battle, blow on this. We'll be there."

            "Thank you." Slippy said numbly, putting the cord around his neck.

            "No thanks needed." The elf looked at the staff thoughtfully. "We have clerics that can purge this artifact. We thank you. You have our escort until the end of the forest. We know the safest ways."

            Fox nodded his thanks as Slippy slowly mounted onto his horse, still shaking.

            "You wanted to accept that power, didn't you?" Fox later asked. They had left the forest, now proceeding through hills into the mountains.

            "Yes I did." Slippy replied, voice very calm.

            "Why didn't you?"

            He stared off into the distance, seeing the young boy's insane black eyes as he forced a knife into his own heart, and sighed. "It comes at too much of a price."

            Fox looked satisfied. "Indeed it does. Indeed it does."


	7. Chapter Seven: The Vigil

Section Seven: The Vigil

            Fara hugged herself, quickly walking, eyes on the ground. Leading her and escorting her were the four that had originally kidnapped her; they talked like they were used to what was going on around them.

            She hadn't seen the battles. They had reached an old fortress in the mountains, and it had felt like a huge hand had picked them up… then they were standing outside a huge, gothic castle. Her escort seemed glad to be there, but she felt the evil pulsing off of it. This was Andross' stronghold.

            Around her, all matters of evil beasts and soldiers made way for them, some shouting and calling out various things at the four. They replied in kind, laughing, but no one challenged them: it was clear just who had rank here. She stole a glance up from the ground, glancing to one of her sides. She almost stopped when she saw a huge black dragon rear up from a laying position, snorting, staring down at the group and shaking its horns.

            "He won't hurt you." The leader of the four, O'Donnel, grabbed her arm and hauled her on. "He knows he would die if he did."

            "How did your Emperor coax dragons to fight for him?" She inquired, eyes on the ground again.

            "Very easily. My Emperor is a very good businessman, as you're about to find out. We're taking you to him right now."

            They approached a huge set of gates. Various insignias and plaques ringed the door. She named them to herself as they waited for the gates to open. Hextor, god of tyranny, seemed to be the main deity here, and she wasn't surprised. All four that escorted her had insignias for the Fists of Hextor, a group of evil, destructive fighters that worked directly for their god. Apparently, Andross was in league with Hextor, as well as Erythnul, god of slaughter; Nerull, god of death; and Vecna, god of secrets.

            "I hear he talks to all of them directly on a regular basis." O'Donnel remarked as they finally went through the doorway, apparently knowing exactly what she was looking at.

            She couldn't help but raise her eyebrows a bit, then fixed her gaze on the floor again, keeping pace with the quartet.

            Eventually they entered a large throne room. The quartet immediately fell to their knees before the figure in the throne; Fara merely curtsied, feeling fear clutch at her throat as she lifted her gaze to see this 'evil Emperor,' and got the shock of her life.

            Andross was relaxed in an ornate throne, fingertips pressed together in front of him, arms resting on the arms of the throne. He was a little older then her father, she judged, which put him in his fifties or sixties. He stood as she looked at him. He was average height, fit, and carried himself with an immense regality. An aura of intense power surrounded him.

            "You're dismissed. I thank you." He told the four Fists of Hextor kneeling before him.

            O'Donnel's group stood, bowed as one, and left. Their dismissal left only Fara and Andross in the throne room. 

            "Salutations and welcome." Andross said grandly, stepping off the dais easily and approaching her, then bowing low. "I apologize for the terms of your visit here, but it was necessary in its own fashion. You see, if you are here, your father will not attack this fortress, which is what is needed."

            "I see. You're not going to kill me then."

            He blanched. "Oh, heaven's no! Think what you may of me, my dear lady, but I'm not like some of the, well, bloodthirsty savages that I command. God no! I am merely a leader, a… diplomat, if you will." He smiled easily. "I used to be quite like the four who escorted you—a Fist of Hextor—but I have since been, well, promoted. Now I'm acting as Commanding General and Emperor." He pulled a pendant out from under his shirt; it was Hextor's insignia.

            She replied by pulling out her pendant, a sun amulet in the shape of Pelor. It started glowing the minute it was uncovered, as if trying to push away evil.

            "Indeed." He looked amused, then looked past her. "Felocial? Would you be so kind as to show the Princess to a room?"

            Fara turned, and startled when she saw a lupine elf standing there, arms crossed. Her fur was pure black, and her hair intense white, cascading around her face: a Drow. She was dressed like a fighter, but only wore light armor, a rapier hanging at her side.

            "Afternoon." The Drow said by way of introduction. "If you would follow me please."

            "And if I don't?"

            The Drow smiled just a bit. "I don't think we need to discuss that."

            "Felocial." Andross said in a slightly warning tone.

            "As you will, my liege." She bowed to her emperor, then wove Fara on. "Come with me my lady."

            Fara paced Felocial, sending side-glances toward her escort the entire time. "How did you come to work with Andross?"

            "He has an alliance with my people." She tossed her hair back. "As he has an alliance with dragons. Simple, really." She opened a heavy wooden door, lifting the crossbar and gesturing for Fara to enter first.

            It was a nicely appointed room, fitting for someone of her rank. She was in one of the towers. Fara stepped over to one of the glassed-in windows, and saw that she could see parts of the battles going on. It was very bloody indeed, and she couldn't tell exactly who was winning. Even as she watched, a black dragon dove at the battlefield, and a gold dragon appeared and met it in midair. The lines below them scattered back to safer positions as the two dragons fought, hot blood splattering, flying and fighting above the ground in a dance of death. Finally, another black came out of nowhere, and the gold was sent plunging to the ground, throat slashed open. Black knights leapt over the corpse, clearly not affected at all, and went to battle with true knights, which tried desperately to defend her father's lines as they reformed.

            She turned away, feeling her eyes burn.

            "Horribly beautiful, isn't it?" Felocial stood next to her, staring out. "There is a strange beauty in death…"

            "How can you think that?"

            "Because it's true and you know it." She narrowed her eyes at the princess. "Well, make yourself comfortable, your Highness." She left the room and closed the door, and it flashed slightly as magical locks activated.

            Fara sighed, sitting on the bed and covering her face with her hands. Her symbol of Pelor was still glowing intensely, as if trying to comfort her. She wrapped a hand around it and stood, investigating her quarters.

            It turned out the extensively carved wooden chests were full of clothes, mostly meant for men. She removed her ruined dress and donned a pair of breaches and a loose swordfighter's shirt, slid her feet into a pair of soft boots, and felt much more comfortable. She hadn't dressed like this since her father had stopped her sword lessons two years ago…

            She drew an imaginary sword and began to go through moves slowly, then with increasing speed, eyes closed, parrying away the blades of imaginary foes as she exercised. As she went through the routine, her pendant glowed more and more intensely, then a flash of light filled the room.

            She stopped, frozen in fear. She was being shown the battlefield close up. She watched in horror as one of her father's knights did battle with a black knight, and fell. Andross was winning. There was no way to deny it now. 

            She jolted back to her body and kneeled, shaking her head and looking towards the window. There was nothing she could do to help, either… but wait, and pray for a miracle.

            "What do you think?"

            "My liege?" O'Donnel startled, glancing at Andross. They stood at the top of the highest tower, looking down at the battle.

            "I asked you what you think, O'Donnel."

            "What about, my lord?"

            "This war. And of course the Princess."

            "Ah." O'Donnel was silent, then said. "I believe we have the war won… but…"

            "But?"

            "Messages have reached us now that someone or something is fighting back against your influence in the King's territory. The Perytons have been wiped out, though they did away with the villages first."

            "Just as well, they weren't loyal. Anything else?"

            "We've lost an entire tribe of wood elves, and the Crest of the Hippogriff."

            "Interesting. Any idea who is doing this?"

            "No reports yet. And our diplomat didn't return from his discussion with the Jack of Tears."

            "That's what I believed would happen. No great loss. Now, on to the Princess."

            "She is tough for her kind, milord. Very tough. I believe she has some power in her own right as well."

            "She does, she just doesn't know it." Andross rubbed his chin. "Which is for the better."

            "Indeed?"

            "Indeed. I must consult Hextor. See to it that our lines continue to fight as well as they have been."

            "Sir."


	8. Chapter Eight: The Gladiators

Section Eight: The Gladiators

            "So what exactly is beyond the mountains?" Falco asked, guiding his horse down the road.

            "That's going to be the problem." Peppy admitted, looking at a map. "Recent reports say that's where the Jack of Tears has made his home…"

            "Jack of Tears?" Katt glanced at him. "I've heard of him. Why hasn't the King dealt with him, if he and his many henchmen are so dangerous?"

            "Mostly because the King isn't that much of a muttonhead." Falco said sourly. "I've also heard a good bit about the Jack of Tears, and none of it is good."

            "Beyond the mountains is a saltwater swamp, then it changes to open fields. That's the border." Fox suddenly said. "Andross' front stronghold isn't far from the front lines of battle, by what I've heard in the various towns we've passed through."

            "That's about right." Peppy said. "Actually, we'll be coming up on another town rather soon, but it's abandoned, according to this… er… Fox, where did you get this?"

            "One of my father's friends made it for me." He smiled a bit. "Noticed it changes with our movements, eh?"

            "Well, I…"

            "It isn't abandoned, it's a Gypsy town." Said Bill abruptly. "Passing groups use it as living space. During good weather, there's almost always a minor populous, waiting for others to show up for trading. It's in good repair as far as I know. Even Andross wouldn't stoop as low to destroy it. Besides, it's said to be a spot watched by Fharlanghn and Olidammara."

            "The God of Roads and the God of Rogues." Fox nodded.

            "Who exactly do you follow anyway, Fox?" Slippy asked.

            "Heironeous, Pelor, Corellon Larethian, and Ehlonna all get my approval, but I only pray to Heironeous." He replied, tapping the insignia on his shoulder. "As did my father."

            "I remember." Peppy nodded. "I think that Heironeous had his eye on your father as well, pardon me." He looked to the sky and made a religious gesture. 

            Silence, then Falco twisted and looked at Bill. "How did you know about the town?"

            Bill didn't reply.

            Not long later, they rode into the town. No one was there, but it was still in good repair. It was several small houses and shops based around one large, circular building—an arena, by Fox's guess. Not surprising, while the capital itself had no arena, many other towns did.

            The group spread out and did a thorough check of the empty village, and came back by the same report. It was empty.

            "I wouldn't be traveling either, with what's going on." Said Slippy, shaking his head. "Andross' influence is spreading far past the front lines."

            "Indeed." Fox took the tack off the horses and put them in a small pasture near where they were camping, setting his pack against a wall and stretching out. "Which means we have to be even more alert."

            "This place has an aura." Katt remarked, brushing her hands over one of the building walls. "Much has happened here. Spirits talk."

            "Yes. And scream."

            "Is it safe to stay here?" Falco looked around wildly, totally dead to the whispers that flowed through the town.

            "Of course. This town is protected, for now. Probably not for much longer, but we are safe." Peppy said, arriving, and pointed out spires around the town. "Those that travel through here have made efforts to ward away creatures that would do harm."

            "Always a good thing." Falco relaxed, poking the fire.

            "Where is Bill?" Slippy asked, finishing up a minor spell to protect their campsite.

            "I last saw him entering the arena." Katt said, glancing up from pulling food out of her pack. "Would you like me to find him?"

            "No, I will." Fox said, leaving the campsite.

            The arena was built from stone, a bit worn from time, but still standing strong. He entered through one of the many egresses onto the arena floor, noticing the old text carved above the door—"Fighter's Entrance." Bill was kneeling in the center of the circular arena floor, sword stabbed into the ground in front of him, head bowed.  Fox was careful not to disturb him as he approached.

            "Praying to Fharlanghn and Olidammara?" He finally asked quietly.

            "That too." Bill replied, not lifting his head. "But mostly, praying for those who lost their lives here." He sat back on his heels after a moment, looking around. "This place is full of spirits and memories."

            "Yes, indeed." Fox watched as Bill stood and pulled his sword out of the sand, sheathing it. "You know more about this place then you show, don't you?"

            "It has much to do with my past."

            "Does not everything?"

            "Mm. Past, present, or future." He stared off into the distance. "My past is here."

            Fox raised his eyebrows. "I believed you to be a city man who joined the guard."

            "Then you believed wrong. No, I had my roots elsewhere. I've only been on the guard for a little over a year now." He started walking toward the same entrance Fox had used. "General Pepper himself found me, and asked me to join. I did. It was much more stable then how I had been living."

            "Indeed." Fox nodded, pacing him.

            "… So who are they…?"

            "No caravan markings…"

            Fox woke up with a start and with a surge of his body snapped to his feet, ready to fight in seconds, looking around. The town had come strangely alive around them. Instead of empty, over a hundred people flocked here—several caravans. He looked around at the gypsies eying them, nudging his group awake. "We don't mean any harm, and we aren't a gypsy caravan. We are simply travelers."

            "Indeed, good sir." The one that was apparently in charge raised his eyebrows. "Amazingly well armed for travelers."

            "It is a dangerous world, sir."

            "Indeed."

            Fox's unicorn whinnied, leaping the corral fence and coming to stand by Fox, snorting. Against the glow of the unicorn's horn, the people in the village seemed almost faded.

            "I-illusion?" Slippy said, standing.

            "No. Memories." Said Katt.

            "If you wish us to go we will go." Fox said, glancing at the horizon. Sunrise.

            "No, no… you may stay. We have seen the markings of the gods you worship. We can tell you mean us no harm." Said the man in charge.

            "How did you get into the village without us seeing?" Demanded another gypsy.

            "We simply rode in. We saw no one." Falco replied.

            "Indeed! And why should we believe you? You're Guild!"

            "Thief's Honor." Falco bowed.

            "He is correct." Said Peppy. "You can trust us."

            "With the increasing evil in this world, none can be trusted." Said the second man.

            "All too true." Fox said softly. "As for staying… no. We will pack and leave. We have quite a ways to go."

            "Actually we would like to ask a favor good sirs." Said the man in charge.

            "Oh? What kind of favor?" Fox gestured for the rest of his group to pack, and they obeyed, clearly uneasy with this situation. These were merely ghosts, spirits talking to them, changing the area to a bustling town. This was powerful magic at work, and they didn't want to disturb it.

            "We were supposed to have a tournament. Several bands agreed to put in two fighters." The leader wove at the arena. "But… one of the caravans hasn't shown up, and the fight is tonight."

            "So you want us to put in two fighters to replace those missing." Fox finished. "And if I am correct, arena fights are to the death, are they not?"

            "Yes, or this one will be. Gladiators know the risk."

            Bill stepped forward. "I'll do it."

            "Bill!" Katt hissed, eyes wide.

            "Do not worry. I did this for a number of years before I joined the guard." He said over his shoulder, eyes not leaving the leader.

            "Ah a retired Gladiator, then?" The leader raised his eyebrows. "Who will be your partner then, young man?"

            Fox stepped forward. "I will."

            "It's done, then. You two will compete as partners. And do not worry, if you survive, the prize will be well worth it. The tournament is tonight. Please come with me…"

            "They are crazy." Falco said, pacing back and forth. As the rest of the 'caravan,' they had a private box set up for them, some of the best seats in the arena. "Completely crazy."

            "They aren't fighting normal people, they're fighting spirits." Katt said, looking out over the arena. "Apparently there are some unsettled sprits who wish to fight again, and they need mortal participants… or perhaps one of the caravans is truly missing."

            "All of these people are dead, aren't they?" Whispered Slippy, looking around. "Andross?"

            "Yes." Peppy nodded. "Let's just hope that Bill and Fox know what they are doing."

            "Why did you agree to fight with me?" Bill asked, strapping on arm guards.

            "Because you need a partner who is competent, at least with fighting. I admit I know nothing about arena-style fighting." Fox finished getting out of his armor and switched to gladiator-style armor, which was very little compared to what he usually wore. He passed over wearing a buckler, instead settling for arm guards and two leg guards. His swords weren't made for arena fighting; the blades were too long, the style of fighting used with them wrong. He tested short swords until he found one he was satisfied with, then hung it around his waist. "But I CAN fight, and that is better then nothing."

            "Not if you get me killed."

            "I won't." Fox looked at him seriously. "I know we haven't known each other long, and you are the veteran here, but you'll have to trust me, William."

            Bill startled at the long version of his name—he hadn't really been called that since before he had started fighting as a Gladiator. "All right. I thank you."

            Fox sighed, and tightened an armband around one upper arm—a leather band decorated in the insignia of Heironeous. "Who do you worship, Grey?"

            "Kord, god of strength."

            "Mm. I suppose that is the best choice for a gladiator."

            Bill smiled. "Indeed."

            They were in a room, almost like a cage or cell, not far from the fighter's entrance. As evening approached, they could hear other fights going on, and not far away, an angry beast roaring and rattling cage bars.

            "How did you come to be a gladiator?"

            "I'm not originally from this kingdom. I was sold into slavery at an early age, and when I was twelve I started training to fight. At fourteen I was in the arenas. I'm nineteen now." Bill easily wove a knife through his fingers absently.

            Fox imitated him, then threw it at a target, hitting dead center.

            "How about yourself? You seem much like a Knight who has no lord, and has not been knighted, if that makes any good sense."

            He had to laugh. "A Knight? Me? Oh, no. You have to understand that my father was a Knight, Bill, and one of the King's most well-recognized and noble fighters. A crusader, in fact. While he was on the crusades, he ended up forming a, well, team with Pigma Dengar and our own Peppy Hare." He sobered. "He was executed for murder. He was framed."

            "I suppose that is why you are questing like you are."

            "Yes. It is my father who trained me, and while I do side with the King, while I have my honor and uphold the law, I have my own agenda. I know what has to be done and I'll do it with or without permission from the King." He sat back against the stone wall.

            "Brave man." Bill smiled. "And I suppose that a very beautiful, charming princess who is being held by Andross has nothing at all to do with it?"

            Fox sputtered, then said, "No, of course not!"

            "I believe you." Bill grinned and said no more.

            The door opened, and the town leader stood in the doorway. "It's time."

            Fox propped a foot up on the anvil, watching the heavy metal cuff be secured around his foot. He and Bill were now chained together with four feet of slack between them. This restricted his fighting style even more; he'd have to drop much of his oriental training and depend on more direct moves.

            "Stay in stride." Bill ordered as they moved to the gate and waited. "The last thing we want to do is trip."

            "I agree. Who are we against?"

            "Four or five other pairs, I believe. To last pair standing." Bill looked through the barred gate into the arena. "We might or might not get challenged after that if we survive."

            "Hmm. What do you believe our odds to be?"

            "Like the others. Oh, and Fox… NO MAGIC."

            "All right." He held up his hands. "You must understand how much magic drains me. I'm far from being a mage or sorcerer. It's just that that small percentage of elf in me allows me to perform SOME magic."

            "Hmm." 

            They stood in the center of the arena with the other pairs, waiting. The gypsy in charge gave the nod, and the fight began.

            Fox and Bill spun back to back and drew their swords. Fox automatically laid out the fight in his head, then shook his head sharply—he couldn't fight like that right now. He'd have to change his tactics completely. He was chained to his partner, and he didn't have the weapons he was used to.

            "We have to start moving!" He shouted over his shoulder above the din of the crowd.

            "Agreed!" Bill spun so he was beside Fox, still in a ready position. "NOW!"

            They charged forward, staying in stride. Fox had to heavily compensate for the weight on one ankle, but Bill was used to it and paced him perfectly. They leapt into the fray, and Fox twirled on the chain, leaping to Bill's other side. The chain cracked the air, catching one of the other fighter's ankles. The other fighter staggered, caught between Bill and Fox, and Fox swung.

            Crimson blood splattered into the air, flying up in a fan, following the short sword's motion. It ran down the blade, soaking into his fur, but he ignored it, setting a foot on the chain. The dead man's partner spun, staring with wide eyes as the short sword slashed through his throat. The crowd screamed as the fighter fell.

            Fox muttered softly, praying, as he spun to fight the next team. He didn't want to kill his fellow fighters, but knew he had to, and struck as Bill did, fighting with all his ability.

            In the end, it was only Fox and Bill standing there, the other fighters dead or wounded. Fox shook off slowly, moving to sheath his sword, then stopping when he saw the blood dripping off it.

            "Congratulations." Bill said, looking at Fox. "You can now call yourself a gladiator."

            Fox didn't reply, wiping at blood that had splattered over his cheekbone. Much as he tried to uphold the law, much as he tried to uphold his father's ideals, he had just killed ten innocents. Well, innocents in his mind. Fellow gladiators, true, but not enemies.

            "Well done." Said the man in charge, clapping along with the crowd. "Very well done."

            Bill and Fox bowed as one, shaking blood off their swords and sheathing them.

            "We've done what you asked us to, and we've won." Fox said.

            "True." The gypsy's smile changed slightly. "And I did say there was a prize. However, there is one more fight you must complete if you wish to gain that prize."

            "Indeed? Well, I suppose we shall accept that challenge then, if the prize is worth the risk."

            "You tell me."

            One of the gates opened, and a smaller red dragon burst through it, wings partly unfolding and rearing to its full height, then screaming as chains held it back. It shook the chains and shrieked furiously, eyes picking out and targeting the two fighters left. It opened its wings; the webs were gone. This dragon had clearly been forced into captivity, and wasn't happy at all.

            "Remind me when this is over to learn Draconic." Fox muttered to Bill, going on guard, staring up at the angry creature.

            "If we survive this, I will."

            The gypsy clapped, and as the dragon was released, Fox stabbed the point of his sword into the center of the chain that connected him to Bill, and snarled a few words. Magic cracked from him, and the chain broke. They lunged to different sides as the dragon stalked forward, breathing fire.

            "That creature is beyond reason!" Falco shouted angrily. "I can't believe this! If I get my hands on that gypsy…"

            "Talk later!" Slippy ordered, concentrating, building up spells. Katt was doing the same. Peppy loaded his bow and aimed.

            "This might just endanger them more." Katt remarked.

            "If anything it'll distract that thing." He replied, and all of them attacked at once.

            The dragon screamed and turned its head toward them, shaking off arrows, now insanely angry. Fox gestured to Bill, and they charged at the same time. Bill leapt and landed on the dragon's back, bracing himself and stabbing in between two large scales. The dragon screamed and shook, sending him flying, and snapped around, rearing and tossing its head. It lashed its tail, and screams could be heard from the arena as the powerful appendage did damage to the arena stands, causing people to lunge, duck, and leap out of the way.

            Fox, off to one side and as yet unseen, saw Bill hit the ground and roll, then get to his feet and get to a ready position. He dodged under the dragon and flipped his sword so he could stab up, looking at his partner and waiting. Bill was beckoning to the dragon, holding his sword one-handed. The dragon laughed once, great and booming, prowling closer to Bill.

            "What's so funny pray tell?" Bill asked the dragon coldly.

            "You. Facing me. Alone." The dragon hissed as a reply, crouched and ready, then lunged.

            "FOX!" Falco threw his sword.

            Fox dropped his short sword and lunged, catching the sword by the hilt then twirling. The dragon snapped its body away from the blazing blade, snarling angrily. Fox stepped up next to Bill, standing ready.

            "Glad you decided to join me." Bill remarked.

            "You couldn't drag me away." Fox replied, standing in a ready position that was a bit exotic to Bill—he supposed it was part of Fox's oriental training. "I personally have never fought a dragon. How about you?"

            He shook his head vigorously, circling as the dragon did. "Any idea how to get past the scales?"

            "Not yet." Fox eyed the dragon, holding his oriental stance as they circled.

            The dragon tired of the game and lunged, snapping its head forward like a striking snake. Bill lunged to one side, Fox leapt back and upward gracefully, landing on the edge of the stands and going to a ready position again. The dragon blasted fire, and he dodged again, leaping up and forward, then tucking and rolling to one side so he was under the dragon again.

            Bill held his position, holding the sword in one hand and making a gesture at the dragon for it to attack. It laughed once more, rearing its head up to strike down. Bill was ready, and when the dragon's mouth came down, his sword went up, plunging through the roof of the dragon's mouth and into the brain. At the same time, Fox struck, stabbing Falco's sword right through the dragon's windpipe, preventing the dragon from breathing fire.

            The dragon fell, collapsing onto its side, blood pooling around it.

            "Well then." Fox dusted himself off and looked in the direction of the head gypsy. "What's your next challenge? A tarrasque?"

            The gypsy laughed out loud. "No. I do believe that I've seen enough. Now I promised you a prize, did I not?"

            "Yes indeed." Bill stood as Fox gave him a hand up, nodding once to his partner.

            "Unfortunately, the prize I have is only meant for one person…" He looked at Bill, then looked at Fox. "You may wash and return to your armor. I think your partner is in greater need of said prize then you are."

            Fox shrugged and left the arena floor. He had just finished putting on his armor and was returning Falco's sword when Bill appeared.

            The armor he had been wearing had been exchanged for red-tinted half-plate armor. He wore it comfortably, and smiled when he saw the group looking at the sudden change of attire.

            "It's flame resistant." Bill said simply. "I suppose that would be a good thing, since we are entering dragon territory?"

            "Yes, indeed." Fox smiled.

            Wind slammed them, and they were suddenly standing in the middle of a ghost town.

            "Do you suppose that the Almighties are playing a game with us?" Falco said, stunned.

            "Don't blaspheme." Fox warned. "And no, I don't. If Kord sees fit to grant one of his followers some rather interesting armor, who are we to argue?"

            "Kord didn't…" Bill started.

            "Are you sure?" Fox looked at him.

            Silence, then Bill started laughing. "No, I'm not. Shall we move on?"

            "We shall." Fox swung astride his unicorn as the rest of his group mounted up.


	9. Chapter Nine: The Ebon Stronghold

Section Nine: The Ebon Stronghold

            "So after we cross this mountain range, we reach a swamp?" Falco looked at the map.

            "A bayou, actually." Fox said. "The Blood Bayou, specifically."

            "BLOOD? Oh, wonderful." Falco rubbed his eyes. "Why do I not like how that sounds?"

            "Walking skeletons, necromantic golems, and people who are living diseases. Why should you like how it sounds?" Peppy smiled halfway. "However, just traveling through there doesn't assign us to death. If we don't bother those living there, they shouldn't bother us."

            "Mostly correct." Fox said, rolling up the map. "We're in more danger going through this mountain range then the Bayou. Bill and I killed a red dragon, and this is where red dragons live. I'm sure that they aren't very pleased with us."

            "Aye." Katt nodded. "Then let's travel quickly and reach the stronghold by nightfall. We should be safe there."

            The group continued to move along the worn path. It got colder as they traveled farther, making several don cloaks over their armor and pull collars up. This area seemed trapped in a perpetual winter; what animals they did see were thin and desperate looking. The marks of O'Donnel's party remained on the ground still, however, and they followed the prints to the stronghold.

            "My god." Falco craned his neck up to stare at the fortress. Made from dark gray stone, it both blended in with the mountains and seemed to sit forebodingly in the way of all who would attack the kingdom. "How long has this been here?"

            "A very long time." Peppy replied, pulling his horse to a halt. "The drawbridge is up."

            Positioned so a natural ravine separated the stronghold and the road, the severe drop seemed impossible to climb, which of course was the exact point. At the bottom of the ravine, a river crashed and raged.

            "HO!" Bill shouted up at the stronghold walls. No reply, no movement. No flags fluttered on the walls. No torches glowed in their scones. "It seems abandoned. Odd. Last I heard, this stronghold was fully manned."

            "How did O'Donnel's party get across then?" Katt asked, looking at where the hoof prints and wagon tracks continued on blissfully over the edge of the ravine.

            "Falco." Slippy said, and Falco nudged his horse closer. They conferred for a moment, and Falco nodded. "Like this, sirs and madam."

            Falco dismounted, handing his reins to Peppy, and pulled a grappling hook out of his belt pouch. He judged, twirled it easily above his head, and threw. It soared through the air and hooked into a metal bar on the drawbridge, sharp point digging into the old wood. After testing the grappling hook's hold, Falco braced, and stepped off the cliff. The rope swung him in a partial circle, landing him safely on the other side.

            Watching Falco take down the grappling hook, Fox grinned. "Even thieves have their uses."

            "Precisely, my esteemed leader…" Falco called over the ravine, having heard every word Fox had said. Another twirl, and the hook went over the wall. Wrapping the rope around his hands, Falco easily scaled the wall, then made his way over to the drawbridge controls. "Watch thyselves!" He called, and pulled the aging lever.

            With a long series of clanks, the drawbridge sped down and thumped onto the cliff wall in front of them, startling several pebbles to fall into the raging water. After a long moment, the party proceeded over the drawbridge.

            Falco met them in the empty courtyard of the stronghold. "I believe this place to be abandoned."

            "Any sign of a struggle?" Fox asked, looking around.

            "No. None. No signs of any fighting at all." 

            The rest of the party dismounted, and they did a thorough search of the stronghold, meeting back in the courtyard.

            "Just like the gypsy town." Bill shook his head.

            "Perhaps more ghosts then?"

            "There are no memories here." Katt brushed her hand down one of the stone walls. "But there is… a residual fear. Something did happen here."

            "Aye." Fox said, shaking his head. "This is quite a puzzle. I imagine his Majesty will be enraged when he finds out, but there's nothing we can do. Very well. We camp here for the night, if anything for the protection, and we move on in the morning. We still have a long ways to travel…" He turned his head, staring off in the distance towards the border. "And I have a feeling that the King's army will need our help, and soon."

            They nodded, already setting up a camp.

            "We're only six people, Fox." Peppy quietly remarked.

            Fox turned his back and left the courtyard, climbing up to one of the towers and sitting on the stone wall, staring out.

            _'I suppose that nothing is escaping the touch of Andross now…' Peppy mused, pacing down the halls of the stronghold, carrying a torch. It threw dancing shadows across the worn gray stone, pacing him in his wanderings. _'Perhaps that is what happened to this stronghold… to the gypsy town.'_ He paused, reaching an alcove, looking out at the courtyard. A warm fire glowed; Katt had produced a lute from her packs, Slippy was cooking, the others relaxing. Fox was still unseen, apparently still up on the tower. _'I do not know why Fox puts such confidence in us. We are such a small group, how we will make a difference in such a war?'_ Peppy shook his head, moving on. _'But he is young, and he has his father's blood in his veins. He can command naturally. I hope in this aspect he does as well as his father, but… he is only eighteen. We are a group of six commanded by an eighteen year old.'_ He sighed. __'But you would not have it any other way, would you, Peppy Hare? Only right that the progeny of James McCloud leads as once he did. And just like his father, Fox carries in him the touch of Heironeous. Bless him.'_

            A very faint moan split the air, making him freeze and turn. "Hello? Is anyone there?" After a long moment, the noise repeated, and he began to search, ending up in a small set of servant's quarters their search had somehow missed. A young woman lay there, apparently just becoming conscious. "Young lady? What are you doing here?" He asked blankly, setting the torch in a wall scone and pulling a chair to the bed.

            A young canine with a slender but curved figure, her clothes were tattered, and she stared up at him blankly. After a moment, his eyes registered her as being at least half elf. "Sir…? I do not recognize you… what are you doing in servant's quarters?"

            "Ah young lady, do you remember anything?" Peppy frowned. "I found you. You seem to be the only one alive here."

            "What?" She struggled up, staring at him. In spite of her battered condition, she was stunningly beautiful, features delicate. It was an unusual beauty, something he had always associated with the Elven race, and even then it seemed not quite like any elf he had ever seen.

            "Do not worry, I am one of the King's own Knights." Peppy managed a smile, gesturing at insignias he was not even legally able to wear at this point in time. He was fallen from grace, no longer a knight, but this young lady didn't need to know such information. Especially when it caused him so much shame and disgrace. "We believed this stronghold to be abandoned, and in light of the war, we supposed that those who were here were casualties."

            "I am the only one?" She asked faintly.

            "I am afraid so."

            "But… what am I to do?"

            "Firstly, mademoiselle, I suggest we leave this room and join my comrades. Trust me, we will not harm you." He held out a hand.

            She hesitated, then took it. He felt a little shiver go up his arm, and tried hard to ignore it.

            "Well, well, well. What's this? Who is your friend Peppy?" Falco said, looking up.

            "I found her in the servant's quarters." Peppy replied, having already given his cloak to the young woman. She sat down by the fire, huddling close and turning the cloak's collar up. "I'm afraid she doesn't remember much…"

            "Nothing… I remember nothing." She shook her head, feathery dark hair cascading around her face. Now that she was in good light, she seemed even more beautiful, soft fur glowing in the firelight. "The last thing I remember is retiring after doing dishes from the commander's meal. Then, I remember your comrade awaking me. Nothing in between."

            "Well, goodness then." Slippy shook his head.

            Katt crossed her arms, suspicious. She didn't like this. "Why is it, you suppose, that only she survived then?"

            "You suspect me?" The young woman was horrified, eyes wide and hurt.

            "Katt…!" Bill protested. "How could this young lady do any damage?"

            "Humph. I'm going to find Fox." Katt left the campsite, climbing the stone stairs to the tower.

            "Why would she think such a thing?" Tears showed around the young woman's eyes.

            "Don't let her bother you. She's a Sorceress. I suppose she's allowed." Falco handed her a kerchief. "Now, what would your name be, milady?"

            "Sylvia." The woman smiled, brushing her hair back.

            "Yes Katt?"

            "No sneaking up on you, is there?" Katt sat down next to Fox, also staring off.

            "No. Who is the new person by the fire? It is no one I know."

            "Were you watching?"

            "No."

            Katt stared at him for a moment, and then shook her head. "I won't ask how you know. A servant girl Peppy found in the stronghold. Personally, I'm a bit suspicious. How is it that only she is here?"

            "A bit strange, even I'll say that." Fox frowned, but it was like he didn't know he was, mind far way.

            "So we agree?"

            "I suppose we do. You have good senses, milady Katt. As a Sorceress, you must."

            Katt laughed. "I'm not a very good sorceress, Fox."

            "That all depends on who is watching." Fox was silent. A frozen wind blew across them, making Fox's rough-weave cape flap. After a long moment, he suddenly said, "Andross is winning the war." With that, he stood and returned to the campsite, Katt following.

            "How do you know?"

            "Not sure. A feeling… like someone told me, but without me hearing." Fox shrugged. "I cannot fully explain it."

            "That's all right. I understand."

            "And there's the last member of our party." Falco said, smiling when Fox and Katt joined them. "Fox, this is Sylvia. She was a servant here. Sylvia, this is our leader, Fox McCloud."

            "Rather young for a Commander." She raised her eyebrows.

            "It's not an official rank, milady." Fox sat down, pressing his fingertips together absently.

            "Then how is it that you are in charge?"

            "Because we're vigilantes."

            Sylvia raised her eyebrows again. "Indeed?"

            "We all have our reasons, but that fact in itself is true." Fox was watching her, but unlike the others, his gaze was cool. "And I am very curious why only you survived."

            "Siding with Katt on this?" Bill asked. "Why question it, Fox?"

            Fox looked at Sylvia for a long time, then looked at Katt. They communicated silently for a moment, and Fox turned back to Sylvia, leaning close. In a voice so low only she heard, he said, "I know what you are."

            She jumped. "Really sir! Was that necessary?"

            "What did you say?" Peppy asked.

            Fox looked around, saw the look in his group's eyes, and felt the fur on the back of his neck go on end. "She knows and she's the only one who needs to know." He stood. "And perhaps, if you could look past her charm, her becoming appearance, you would agree with me."

            "What?" Bill asked, not understanding.

            "She's a Fey'ri." Katt said in a cutting voice. "Not an Elf."

            Sylvia jerked and leapt to her feet, Peppy's cloak falling to the ground, hair lapping her face. "How dare you insinuate such a thing! Me, a Fey'ri!" She cried, tears dripping.

            "Humph." Fox walked away from the fire to his pack, and came back, carrying his Katana. "Tell me why I shouldn't believe it. You've charmed my entire party." He hung the Katana on his belt, fingers tapping the hilt. "And tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."

            Her eyes widened, tears still running down her cheeks, then turned to the rest of the party. "You will let him say these things to me? Why do you let him lead? Does he treat every lady like this?"

            Fox felt the magic flutter across the party, and snarled. "That's enough, 'Sylvia.'"

            "Fox, this isn't necessary." Peppy stood up, standing beside Sylvia. She tossed herself into his arms, and he looked surprised, looking down at her, then smiled very softly. "She's obviously an innocent."

            "No. She isn't." Then Fox added some scathing-sounding words in Elven, making even Katt wince.

            Sylvia began to tremble.

            "Listen to me, my friends, and listen well. I doubt very highly that this fortress is abandoned. No, everyone is gone from here for a reason…" He drew his sword and pointed it at Sylvia. "And I'm willing to believe that her race is why."

            "Fey'ri? What exactly IS a Fey'ri?" Falco asked, shaking off the charm ever-so-slightly, enough so that Fox was starting to make sense.

            "Years ago, there was a great war, and a certain tribe of elves was almost destroyed. Desperate, they bred with demons. The Fey'ri are the byproduct of this unholy union." Fox said, voice caustic. "Naturally they inherit the talents of the demon they spawned from… ability to disguise their true nature… charms… unearthly beauty because they are not of this earth…"

            "Lies, lies all of it!" Sylvia sobbed. "Why can't you believe me?"

            The group was unsure now, looking at Fox's stony, certain face, and the tears pouring from Sylvia's eyes.

            "You really are your father's son, aren't you?" Peppy whispered, dropping his arms from where they had wrapped around Sylvia.

            Realizing she no longer had the belief of the group, Sylvia backed away from them, trembling. "You would not kill me in cold blood…"

            "All depends how fast you release my party." Said Fox.

            "Hmm. Why should I do that?" Her voice changed. "I could make them attack you, and you know that."

            "Very true. But I'll have my sword through your throat before they could possibly hit me."

            Next thing he knew, he saw a flash around her. He dodged to one side, but it still hit him. He saw lights flash across his vision, and collapsed, shivering. A stun spell. No warning.

            "A very simple trick that is." Sylvia's voice became innocent and shaky again. "I just didn't wish to be assaulted…"

            "Very nice." Katt had retrieved her staff, and took a stand in front of Sylvia. "Now try it with me."

            "Is this necessary? I'm not a fighter." She wrapped her arms around herself.  Fox, meanwhile, was trying to get up, having pushed himself into a kneeling position.  He looked at Sylvia, deeply angered, and magic flashed from him. She deflected the fireball he had thrown, and knocked him out. "Really I'm not…"

            "All right, that's enough." Katt said sharply, magic crackling off her staff. "Leave him alone."

            Sylvia laughed, large webbed wings opening off of her back. Her soft brown eyes turned hard red, and claws dropped down from her delicate hands. She retained her appearance, but it was savage beauty, not soft beauty. "And who's going to make me? You?"

            "That's right." Katt said softly. "If you're honorable enough to take the challenge…"

            "Why should I reject a challenge from a weakling?" She asked blandly.

            Katt's eyes flashed. "Well then. Let's deal with this."

            The rest of the group gasped, suddenly released from the charm, and scrambled away as a blast of fire shot at Katt as Sylvia took off, wings pumping. Katt swung her staff; the fire deflected away, hitting a stone wall, then she took a combat ready stance. Fox's unicorn leapt the paddock wall and took a stance over Fox protectively as her master slowly woke back up again, snarling to himself.

            Katt leapt backward onto a set of stone stairs, deflecting more spells away then dealing a few back. She didn't have that many combat spells; she had always focused on healing magic and earth magic. Well, perhaps the later could be of some use if Sylvia landed, but in the mean time, she'd have to use what little combat magic she had. 

            "I don't believe we were so easily taken by a spell." Peppy sighed as he helped Fox up.

            "Most would have been." Fox rubbed his temples, fighting down a headache. "Being of some Elven blood, I was able to shake the charm off. Katt, being a lady elf, was naturally immune."

            "Hmm." Peppy looked at Katt, still standing on the stairs, engaged in a magical firefight. "Do you think she will win?"

            "Against just Sylvia? Yes. Against a whole group of Fey'ri? Just Katt alone could not defend against them, and if the Fey'ri have any allies among dragonkind…"

            "Oh, no."

            "Exactly."

            "Dragons are best fought against with other dragons." Falco said, crouching on his heels.

            "Given you're harboring a dragon's spirit, I'd suppose you'd know." Fox managed a tired smile, now feeling shame fill him. He had let the Fey'ri catch him off guard, twice. Some great fighter and leader he was.

            Sylvia arced her body and dove at Katt, rushing the ground-bound feline. Katt braced, and felt the claws cut into her robe as Sylvia swooped past, felt her blood fly. She ignored it, bringing her staff around savagely, lightning snapping. Sylvia screamed, then shook it off, swooping in again close. Katt brought the end of her staff around, slamming Sylvia across the temple, making her flutter and fall to the ground.

            "Not accustomed to fighting fellow elves?" Katt inquired.

            "I have not fought since we took this stronghold for ourselves." Said Sylvia, getting up. Blood now ran down from her temple, but it was her only wound. Katt, meanwhile, had several deep scratches in her arm and side. "Besides, you have a rather large weakness, now don't you?" She turned and looked at the rest of the party, standing by Fox's unicorn, which snorted and pawed the ground, clearly willing to defend her master.

            "If you so much as touch them, I will kill you." Katt said, voice hateful and biting.

            "Really?"

            Katt felt Sylvia start a spell, and shouted in Elven, thumping her staff to the ground. The courtyard floor rocked, ground writhing, then broke up, stone spikes shooting up from the ground. Sylvia screamed and struggled into the air, one wing punctured in two places, leg slashed by the sharp stones. The stalagmites stopped just before the party, which reflexively backed away farther from the battle. Sylvia wheeled and brought down a column of flame, which Katt barely managed to dodge. The edge of her robes caught flame, and she tossed the robe off and aside, revealing a fitted tunic and leggings. She twirled her staff into a blur, then flashed her hand in signals. The stalagmites broke free and launched into the air in sharp rock shards, shooting upward into Sylvia.

            Sylvia fell, too injured to continue the fight, gasping. After several moments, she struggled back into the air, leaving the stronghold and into the mountains.

            "She'll be back." Katt leapt over the broken ground left by her earth spell, landing lightly in front of the party.

            "Thank you, Katt. I suppose I was rather stupid to challenge a Fey'ri head-on." Fox said, standing. "You saved my life. I'm in debt to you."

            "Not at all." Katt smiled a bit. "Only too glad to help."

            Booming roars echoed through the mountains, making all snap their heads up, tensing.

            "It seems Sylvia is stirring up the local inhabitants." Peppy said. "This does not bode well."

            "No, it doesn't." Fox said. "But it'd be even more dangerous to leave, because then we have no shelter at all."

            A large flying shape appeared, making all back away even more, then it landed on one of the towers, folding its wings. The wavering fire revealed burnished, metallic scales, with some green coming in on the wings.

            "It's a copper dragon." Falco said. "We aren't in danger."

            "Unless you're belated members of the party that was here last night." Replied the dragon. "They caused some trouble and brought dark magic into our territory." He leaned forward, swaying back and forth, claws digging into the tower, then hopped down to land in front of the team.

            "No, we're their enemies." Fox said, stepping forward.

            "The enemy of the enemy is my friend." Said the dragon gaily, sitting and wrapping his tail around himself. "Or perhaps so. You're accompanied by a unicorn, and I suppose that that is a good sign. Then of course, there is that sword." He eyed Falco. "A guild thief with a Dragon Fire sword? In-ter-est-ing." He shook off absently. "I see armor of the King. A small unit serving him then?"

            "Not precisely, but we are his allies, even if he doesn't know the fact." Said Katt, shaking her head vigorously as her ears rang from the sheer volume of the dragon's voice.

            The dragon threw back his head and laughed. "So that's the way it is! Well then. We've heard about the fight in the gypsy town. Nice work, even if you got our enemies dander up. Ah well. In the mean time, perhaps we can strike a deal to repay that favor." He flopped down and lowered his head to the level of those he spoke to.

            "Favor?"

            "You killed a red dragon. Any losses they have are gains for us."

            "I think there is a way you could repay us, but it is a bit extreme." Falco stepped forward.

            "Name it."

            "Two favors, actually. Firstly, an escort as far as the foothills in the morning."

            "Done. The second?"

            "Your alliance in the war."

            "Oh, are you kidding?" The dragon feigned shock. "We've waiting for the King to come to us asking for alliance for a good while now! We'd gladly fight, and we'll put the word out to other Metallic dragons as well. Andross has Black and Red dragons serving him, and perhaps more then that." The dragon lurched to his feet. "Get some sleep, now. You won't have any more problems tonight, I promise you that."

            "We thank you. How will we contact you if you're needed on the battlefield?"

            "You'll know." The dragon pointed a claw at Falco's sword, then turned and leapt into the air, wind from his wings almost slamming the party into the ground as he flew away.

            "By the time we reach Andross, we will have a small army of allies." Slippy laughed.

            "That might be a blessing." Fox replied. "I'm not sure if there's much left of the King's Army. Let's take our new friend's advice and get some rest. I have a feeling we shall need it."


	10. Chapter Ten: The Blood Bayou

Section Ten: The Blood Bayou

            Upon their descent from the mountains, the group saw why the King's influence basically stopped at the mountains.

            The paths down from the mountains were broken and little used, rough to ride on and frequently blocked by minor avalanches. Their dragon escort was happy enough to correct the later, but reaching the foothills took the better part of the day.

            "We thank you again for your assistance." Said Fox once they were safely out of the mountains.

            "Only too glad to help." The copper dragon grinned, wings partly open. "We shall put the word out to our allies. We know the King asked some of the Golds to fight. We can bring the others if they so desire."

            "Thank you again."

            "Our pleasure." The dragon focused past them, looking down at the depilated Bayou. "Are you absolutely certain you wish to pass through there? We could find you a path around…"

            "We're sure. It is the straightest way to the border, and I think we will be safe."

            "Good luck be with you then." The dragon seemed to shrug, turned, and launched, wings coming down with a clap.

            "Now I'm worried. If a dragon doesn't want to enter that place…" Katt trailed off, staring at the not-too-distant Bayou.

            "Black dragons live in swamps." Falco replied. "And besides, I imagine the Jack of Tears dislikes invaders." He glanced at Fox.

            Fox just smiled a bit, then sobered. "Though it was a hard ride, I believe we should move on. We're still at least a three-day ride from the border."

            The others nodded, letting him lead them down the grown-over road and into the Bayou.

            Dusk found the party picking their way very slowly down the path, all carrying torches. The air here was rank, a thousand scents combined into one—salt air, rotting plants (or flesh, the party couldn't be sure), old blood. The path was soft and muddy, blending in almost perfectly with the murky waters around it, and almost rotten-looking mangrove trees hung over it, vile-looking moss hanging off the branches. Sometimes, alarmingly close, rustling or splashes would sound off, making the group jump and search for the source of the disturbance, and always by that time it was gone.

            "I don't like this." Slippy whispered, carrying a lamp of his own make. The light inside was bright white, harsh on the dismal browns and greens of the Bayou. "I don't want to spend the night here, Fox."

            "Neither do I." Said Katt honestly. "This place feels evil and decayed." More rustles stirred nearby brush, making her jump and swing her torch.

            "Watch thy tongue, young lady. It would be bad to insult those that live here." Peppy warned, lifting his torch higher.

            Fox drew his unicorn to a halt and dismounted. "It's slower, but it'll be safer." He remarked. "It is very hard to tell the path." The others quickly dismounted, leading their horses, following him deeper into the Bayou. The last thing they wanted was to fall into the swampy saltwater.

            "Forgive me… but do you hear music?" Bill stopped, staring off into the distance.

            The others also fell to a halt, straining. Once the soft clink of armor and weapons was silenced, they did hear it, toward the southwest.

            "The Carnival of Shadows." Said Fox, continuing on. "That is our current destination."

            "FOX!" Hissed Katt. "Let's just get out of here!"

            "Carnival?" Falco asked. "That's where the Jack of Tears is, right?"

            "Indeed." Fox said easily.

            "Have you got a plan?"

            He paused. "What your dragon friend said keeps ringing through my mind, my comrade."

            "What?"

            "'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'" Fox quoted. "And I'm wondering if, perhaps, the Jack of Tears is against Andross…"

            "You are insane." Falco finally declared.

            "Only to those who don't understand." Peppy said, gazing at Fox. "Young man, you are a genius."

            "No, I'm resourceful." Fox laughed out loud, the joyous noise ringing off the mangrove trees, unnaturally loud in this place. "That said, however, you have much more experience in negotiating then I, and evil grates on my skin." He seemed to shiver. "Would you be willing to speak to the Jack of Tears or his subordinates? You by far would get us the best deal."

            Peppy hesitated. "If he agrees to see us, yes."

            "I thank you. Now, shall we continue?"

            "So, this whole place came about because the Bay of Tears is cursed." Bill stated, listening to Peppy and Fox explain the Bayou. They were sitting in a small, rather dry alcove off the path, taking the time to rest themselves and the horses. Water was stretched thin, and Katt was kept busy creating more—they didn't trust the brine that filled the Bayou.

            "Yes, though it is the blood of Kadum, the Mountainshaker, that taints it." Said Peppy.

            "Hmm. And this Jack of Tears runs this place?"

            "Yes. It's believed he has several commanders under him though, but information on them is limited."

            "A continual Carnival runs on the bay, and all that live here come and go freely. No boats sit in the bay." Said Fox. "The Krewe of Waves sinks almost all boats that come through the Bay of Tears."

            "Krewe?" Falco asked, looking up. 

            "Sector of the Carnival." Fox clarified.

            "Ah…"

            "You're in Mangrove territory right now." Said a voice from off to one side.

            The whole group jumped and spun. A figure leaned against one of the trees, standing on the strange roots like it was a normal thing for him. They couldn't see the figure well, but they saw that it was a male, and he wore leather clothing and carried a cane.

            "We apologize, we do not mean to trespass." Said Fox after a long moment.

            The figure swung his cane absently with a chuckle. "Oh no problem to us. We rather like visitors from time to time. It breaks the monotony." A pause. "And it is rare that such visitors stay as long as you have! Most are quick to fight, and even quicker to leave."

            "Are you _asking us to stay?" Falco said incredulously._

            "Why, yes, or at least come to visit Demoiselle Antunes." Another chuckle. "She _does enjoy new company sometimes, especially the company of men. Though that isn't to say she doesn't appreciate the company of women as well." He added. "Though I dare say the Baron Mirth would appreciate your lady friend's company more then the Demoiselle!"_

            "I apologize, kind sir. We are strangers here. We know not of who you speak of." Said Peppy, stepping forward. The rest of the group, meanwhile, had packed up and was ready to move.

            "Well, you know of the Krewes, I heard. The Baron Mirth is the leader of the Carnival of Bones. I myself am of the Krewe of Mangroves, and as said, my leader is the Demoiselle."

            "Could you come into the light? My eyesight is not as good as it used to be."

            "Oh, gladly." The figure swaggered forward, spinning the cane, not bothered by the light. He was a rather unusual crossbreed, avian and reptilian, so feathers and scales meshed on him in a strange union, primer feathers hanging out of the leather lacing on his sleeves. Horrible scarring deformed one side of his face into a permanent crooked smile, and strange light seemed to emanate from his eyes. 

            Katt winced back, hand to her mouth and eyes wide.

            "Ah, unusual am I not? Oh get used to it Milady." Said the man in a cheerful voice, strolling forward with an easy walk, not bothered by the soft ground. "I am by far not the most unusual or the most deformed you will meet, no! I am normal by anyone's standards here. And that is good." He added with a little high-pitched giggle. "Now then, where was I going to lead you? Ah yes, to the Demoiselle… Were you here to see someone?"

            "We were hoping to hold an audience with the Jack of Tears…" Peppy started.

            "The Jack might speak to you. Might not. Hard to say." The man tossed a hand. "Now, come, come. We mustn't keep the Demoiselle waiting, heavens no…" With that he leapt off the path, balancing lightly on one of the lifted, knobby roots. "You follow the paths as I direct, yes? Good good. Try to keep up." Then he was gone, leaping easily from root to root, not using the path.

            "Uh, Fox? What now?" Falco asked, eyes wide.

            "Do what he says. I personally have heard enough about the Blood Bayou I would do nothing else." Fox replied, and started down the path.

            They had to hurry to keep up with their escort, going much faster then they thought safe on such unstable ground, but their escort urged them on, seeming to speed up as he went. They caught tidbits of information every now and then; their escort seemed to be babbling.

            "The Demoiselle is our leader because she is a sorceress… powerful magic, most powerful in the swamp… now that Lord Quick, he's always trying to butt in, take our people for his own, but I won't be caught by that, no no no… Not a plague wretch, I! I'm not that stupid… Wasn't for the Jack of Tears, probably would have been a war years ago, but he's a solid leader, mostly… loves parties…"

            "I think I could like this Jack of Tears." Falco remarked as they hurried along.

            Katt almost clod clopped him with her staff. "All these things you have heard about him, yet you still warm up to him? You haven't even met him yet!"

            "Well, he loves festivals. Seems his people have good morale. Why shouldn't I approve?"

            Their escort bounced back and was suddenly in front of them, swaying to some crazy inner beat, tail lashing. "Oh good of you to say that sir! We are very merry here, very accepting! You don't seem the sort to join us though… you're too… too…" The man searched for a word.

            "Too what?" Falco asked, exasperated.

            "Normal sir." The man beamed, then bounced off again.

            "He's crazy." Slippy noted.

            "Yes. But he's happy." Said Bill.

            They continued down the path, then down a smaller offshoot of it, going away from the Carnival and deeper into the Bayou. The man continued his cheerful babbling, at one point leaping and landing next to Katt, spooking her mount and making her yelp. But he apparently didn't mean any harm; just grabbed her hand, kissed it, and bounced off again.

            "Belated manners, I suppose." Was Fox's comment to this, looking amused.

            "Manners!" Katt sputtered, hand on her chest as her heart pounded feverishly. "That's considered manners?"

            "Well he kissed your hand didn't he? He forgot to when he met you."

            "Well? Hurry up hurry up!" The man urged from on ahead. "Only a bit farther! You are tired and your steeds are tired but relief is ahead!" He sprang into view again. "The Demoiselle waits! Come come! Why do you not _hurry?_" The man shook his head back and forth in exasperation, then ran ahead again.

            They finally entered a rather large clearing, at the center of which stood a rather large, run down house. It was probably grand once, and even now retained some of its original splendor. Dimly glowing lamps lit the area, and their escort sprang across the empty space to the house.

            "Come come! Leave your horses, they'll be safe here." He urged, standing on the porch and waiting, bouncing on his toes and fidgeting.

            The group did, slowly climbing the rickety steps to the door.

            The man knocked, still bouncing, and another man opened the door. He seemed a bit older, in fact a buck, but something seemed horribly wrong. Looking closer, you could see that his eyes were strange and red, and that his rack split off into _two sets of antlers instead of one. He blinked once at their escort, gaze distant. "Yes?"_

            "Ah visitors, milord! They seem honorable enough, yes? Can they come in?" The man said, working his arms, a grin lighting up his face.

            "Visitors? Newcomers in the swamp?" The buck leaned his neck forward, actually looking past the group, apparently blind. "Ah I hear them now… armor, yes, metal armor!" He stepped back, as if satisfied. "I think our Lady would be pleased with some company… Do come in and make yourselves comfortable…" He held the door open and gestured with one arm, showing off claws on the tips of his fingers.

            "Don't be shy come on!" Their escort ushered them in, but the apparent Butler stopped him from entering. "Whaaaat?" He asked, confused.

            "Did I say that _you could enter?"_

            "Aw, but sir, I found them! I brought them here! Told them all about our Lady! Aw please?"

            "Fine." The buck let him past and closed the door.

            The other six were looking around. The floors were made from worn, almost rotten wood, as was the rest of the house. Lamps glowed on tables and the walls—like the outside, it seemed to have some bit of dignity left. Threadbare velvet curtains hung over cracked windows, and the floors creaked a bit with their every move.

            "Hmm, how many? Six?" The buck frowned at the group.

            "Ay yes milord! Six travelers from the King's territory! Nice people sir! Nice people!" Their escort babbled.

            "Indeed. Not more of the fighters we heard about not long ago, or representatives of that Warlord that reigns to the west of us?"

            "No, sir. We're here of our own accord, though we do fight for the King." Said Peppy.

            "Fair enough." He buck nodded once, looking in the general direction of Peppy. "I'll let our Lady know then…" He walked up the stairs easily, one hand on the railing.

            "Is he… blind?" Falco frowned.

            "To anything living." Said their escort, swaying. "Or at least that's how I understand it. He's a medium, rumors say. I personally don't ask, but if your heart beats, he can't see you. But he can smell and hear you, and is wickedly accurate." He grinned. "Rumor is he's one of the Demoiselle's many paramours as well, but I personally try not to listen to such debauchery…"

            "Indeed." Now Falco seemed amused. 

            Fox had been rather quiet through this, taking the time to study his surroundings. "Well, Peppy, I suppose that you are in charge for now. I suppose that meeting with this Demoiselle is one of the faster ways to get to the Jack of Tears, but…"

            "Why so urgent-urgent to see the Jack of Tears?" Their escort frowned at Fox, still lightly bouncing on his toes. "Makes no sense, true! Few mortals wish to meet him! So different you are. Not like we are though. For mortals you almost make sense!" He beamed.

            "Why thank you." Peppy said drolly as Falco muffled a snicker, then protested as Katt elbowed him.

            "The Demoiselle will see you." The buck came partway down the staircase. Only now did the group note his darkly tanned leather clothing, boots, and bone rings. He was looking at just above them, but it was obvious he addressed them. "And she has decided that you may come as well." He looked at their escort, who squealed with glee. "We run on a slightly different, well… clock then outsiders. She is just having tea, and wishes you to join her." He turned and ascended back up the staircase, a pair of feline tails swinging behind him.

            The group followed him up the rickety stairs, their escort leaping back and forth across the stairs behind them, a grin lighting up his face still. Down a hall, then the buck paused at a door, knocking lightly. "Madame?"

            "You may enter." Came the gracious reply from inside.

            The buck opened the door for them, ushered them inside, and then closed the door, not entering the room himself. The room was richly appointed, if worn like the rest of the manor. A regal woman in her late middle age relaxed on a fainting couch, holding a teacup delicately, looking up when they entered. "Ah, so you _are outsiders." She smiled, sitting up regally. "Do pull up a chair. What brings you here, of all places to visit?"_

            "Actually we'd like a temporary allegiance with the Jack of Tears. We came here because your servant here found and led us here." Peppy nodded at their escort.

            "So I was told." She smiled at their escort, who beamed and wiggled happily. "An alliance with the Jack of Tears, though… I wonder why?" She lazily raised an eyebrow at him.

            Peppy, having sat down in a worn chair, smiled. "I'd be happy to explain if you would listen."

            "Only too happy to." She trilled. "Please."

            Time passed slowly as Peppy explained in greater detail what had brought them to the Blood Bayou. The Demoiselle listened raptly, sometimes nodding a bit, asking for more details on the war. The air in the room was warm and thick with the scent of perfume, and it did little to keep the rest of the group alert. Fox ended up taking a place at one of the windows, folding his arms and staring out, one ear twisted to listen to the conversation. Falco, though Katt protested, sat down against one of the walls and dropped his head to his chest, taking the downtime to try to get some rest. They had been traveling hard all day, and now, this place seemed safe compared to the environment that surrounded it.

            Peppy, meanwhile, had remembered all his etiquette and diplomacy, easily talking to the Demoiselle, assessing her as he went. She threw off a regal aura, but at the same time it was full of power. Given her attention to his explanation of the war, he guessed that while she was not a fighter, she did like being prepared. She, like the rest of the Bayou, seemed evil, but it did not seem to be a dangerous evil, though she apparently reveled in it.

            "I appreciate the information you have given me, Sir Hare." She said when he finished up. "Quite an… unusual proposal for the Jack of Tears as well, though I am the wrong person to discuss it with. My Krewe is quite comfortable where they are." She tapped two fingers together, lacing the others together. "However, I might as yet be able to assist."

            "Indeed?" He smiled.

            "Indeed." She stood and walked over to a worn cloth map that hung on the wall, indicating one of the lines. Peppy also stood, moving so he could study the map. "The good Baron Mirth runs patrols along the borders of my territory. He's a very disciplined man, and also he is the Jack of Tear's second in command. I could have you escorted to the border of my territory, and from there, the Baron's patrols could take you directly to either their Commander, or the Carnival itself. Would that be satisfactory?"

            "Yes, more then satisfactory. I thank you for your hospitality, Demoiselle."

            "It is my pleasure." She smiled a bit. "If you wanted to repay me…"

            He held up his hands. "I apologize, Madam, but I will have to reject such an offer. I am but a disgraced Knight, and we should be moving on…"

            "Your friends are very tired…" She gestured at the rest of the group.

            Falco lifted his head from his chest. "Indeed." He said around a yawn. Katt and Slippy had sat down to one side, reading through a tome that Slippy had produced. Fox was still motionless at the window, and Bill was rolling many-sided dice with their escort.

            "Yes, but there is nowhere to camp in this place." Peppy replied.

            "Perhaps true, but you do not have to camp." She chided. "Would you like to stay here until morning? I would be only too happy to shelter your group."

            "We do not want to wear out our hospitality…" He started.

            "No, not at all." She smiled. "I would be very glad for the company."

            "Fox?" Peppy glanced at his leader.

            "Such as I would like to move on, I'm afraid that some sort of shelter is necessary. We traveled hard today." Fox said, turning. "I would be glad if you would shelter my group, Demoiselle Antunes."

            "I don't believe that we were ever formally introduced, young man."

            "I am Fox McCloud, and my comrades are William Grey, Sorceress Katt Monroe, Guild Thief Falco Lombardi, and Mage Slippy Toad, respectfully."

            "Welcome to my house. Now, come along, I shall see about accommodations…"

            "You really aren't comfortable here, are you Fox?" Falco said. Once they had been shown rooms, they had taken the tack off their horses, and Fox had switched back to his woodsman's clothing.

            "No, I am not." Fox admitted. "I will not be comfortable anywhere in the Bayou I am afraid."

            "He's sensitive to the evil of this land." Said Peppy, hiding a yawn.

            "Evil?" Their escort sprang up, draping his arms over Peppy and Fox's shoulders and leaning his weight into them. "What evil?"

            "Never mind." Fox told him. "We must turn in, so…"

            "Oh aye, aye! I understand. Most people seem to need to daily. Me, well…" Their escort grinned.

            _'This may be one of the many reasons for his apparent insanity.' Peppy mused. "God ye good eve, Fox."_

            "The same to you." Fox replied, disappearing into one of the many bedrooms in the house.

            "The Demoiselle likes you…" The escort remarked to Peppy, trailing after him down the hall.

            "It would seem to me she enjoys the company of most men."

            "Oh aye! She does she does, but not all the same. I would say she likes you more then most, good sir."

            "I'm flattered. God ye good eve."

            The escort said something Peppy didn't quite understand, tossed a hand, and wandered down the staircase.

            Morning came slowly to the Bayou, beams of sunlight filtering through the mangrove trees and the fog that clung to ground, tinting the whole Bayou faint red. Outside the Demoiselle's residence, the party's horses stood in a small group, Fox's unicorn keeping a wary eye out for trouble—they were no more comfortable then Fox was.

            The Demoiselle sighed to herself absently, sipping at her tea, staring out at the Bayou. Already parts of her house were busy, the kitchen bustling as they made breakfast. Though none of the travelers had shown their faces yet, she knew they were waking up, and their leader had been awake for a good while, as had the Knight she had spoken to.

            She smiled a bit. Interesting group, indeed. Very diverse. Very well balanced. Perhaps the Jack of Tears would be willing to see them, if anything, for the amusement. Even at an eternal carnival, one was likely to get bored every now and then.

            "Morning."

            She had sensed the presence to her one side, but startled a bit when she looked. Fox McCloud had not only opened his window, but had hopped out and was currently sitting on the roof outside the window, not bothered by the slant, watching the sun rise as she did.

            "And a good morning to you sir!" She finally said, staring. "Maybe I ought to have more balconies built…?"

            He actually laughed. "No, madam, and I apologize for my current resting spot. I am not used to such a large, fine house."

            "No?"

            "No. And I have made it a habit to watch the sunrise each morning."

            "As have I." She smiled a bit.

            Another window opened, and Falco leaned out of it, looking at Fox. "So. Are we moving out?"

            "That would be the plan." He replied.

            "Stay for morning meal." The Demoiselle urged. "I'm sure your group is hungry…"

            "More then you could imagine." Falco muttered, ducking back inside the window and closing it.

            "That would be very kind of you, Demoiselle." Fox said graciously, easily stepping back inside the window.

            "My pleasure." She smiled.

            "Much as we are enjoying our stay we must move on as soon as possible." Fox spread a map out on the table and circled an area with his finger, grumbling to himself. The map responded, changing and focusing on the area he had circled—an area going from the Bayou to the border. "The King's Army is loosing, I'm afraid. I believe we should dally no more then another day here…"

            "Sounds right." Said Peppy. "If the Baron Mirth is agreeable and takes us to the Carnival, I believe that all should go smoothly…"

            "Lord Quick might try to poke his nose into this as well, so do be careful." Said the Demoiselle warningly, leaning over the map, making her dress gape. Falco shifted, lifting a hand to cover a smile, and Katt sent her elbow into his ribs again. "His Plague Wretches are everywhere at the Carnival, and they report any information found to their Lord without a thought." She sighed and rubbed her chin.

            "The one that escorted us here said something about border problems with the Krewe of Plagues…" Fox started.

            "Yes. That is true. But the Jack of Tears negotiates it out… he tends to say 'together we stand, divided we fall' when it's brought up." She sighed, studying the map. "Interesting artifact… did you have it made?" She looked at Fox.

            "It was my father's."

            "Hmm. I believe I met him, once."

            "Oh? He did not mention it when discussing his travels."

            She smiled. "Ah but I was not always known as the Demoiselle."

            "Fair enough." Fox rolled the map. "With your permission, madam, we must move on…"

            "Of course. Thank you for staying here."

            "No. Thank you."

            "The Baron Mirth is the true second-in-command to the Jack of Tears." Their escort was doing just that, taking them to the borders, making them hurry to keep sight of him. "He's a lady's man, no doubting that… but he's honorable…"

            Peppy tried to keep track of the babble as they moved, knowing that it was useful information, but that it came and went so fast that it was sometimes hard to listen. Making it more difficult was that they were moving, and at a rather fast pace, switching trails at a moment's notice. Also, Fox had caught his eye and nodded to once side, pointing out the fact that they were being watched. Other denizens of the Bayou watched them pass by, including what seemed like a number of humanoid alligators, carrying javelins, often in company of other human members of the Krewe of Mangroves.

            Eventually they stopped, and their escort bounced up and down, waving an arm. "Hey! Representative of the Krewe of Mangroves! Need to speak to a representative of the Krewe of Bones!"

            A very long moment, then some heavy rustles were heard. After several moments, a group of six living skeletons made their way through the Bayou, stopping when they saw the group.

            "No they are friends! They need to see the Jack!" Their escort bounced forward and held out a letter. "Letter from the Demoiselle! She spoke to them! Honest sir they're fine!"

            "Perhaps." Grumbled one of the skeletons, breaking the seal on the letter and reading it. "Mm. All right then." He 'looked' over the letter at the party. "We'll take them to the carnival. This gives you permission to come as well…"

            "Oh yes! I haven't been to the Carnival itself in ages!"

            "All right them." The six skeletons fell into positions around the group and escorted them on. They didn't babble or talk like their Krewe of Mangroves escort, no they were silent and disciplined, clearly the military here.

            "What is your name by the way?" Fox asked their escort, giving him a hand up so he sat sidesaddle behind Fox.

            He seemed to appreciate the ride, kicking a foot absently. Fox's unicorn backed her ears but tolerated the extra weight. "Name? I have a name?" He looked at Fox curiously.

            "Oy vey." Moaned Falco, rubbing his eyes.

            "I'd assume so." Fox smiled a bit. The skeletons didn't react to this conversation, and as they moved on the air grew saltier; they were approaching the bay. Also the music grew louder, and they could hear the sounds of a carnival or a party.

            "Well I suppose you can call me Alan. That's what everyone else seems to call me, when they call me anything." He scratched his head and smiled, shrugging.

            "Alan. All right then. I suppose you will continue to accompany us?"

            "If I can. Until you leave… you aren't staying are you?" He frowned around at the group. "No wouldn't be right if you stay… you're too… normal to stay here." He smiled again.

            "Why thank you." Bill drawled, a smile showing in his eyes.

            "What were you before you came here?" Slippy asked, watching as Alan nodded his head in time to the distant music, kicking foot also falling into the distant beat.

            "Oh, a bard. But my hometown… they…" He stopped. "Oh they didn't like me. So I came here. They're much nicer here." He grinned. "Outcasts us all here. That's why we seem so odd to you."

            Fox suddenly laughed. "Alan, I'm a teenage male paladin who's questing to rescue a princess and rides a unicorn. I think 'odd' is simply a matter of opinion."

            The trees got more and more sparse, and then the group emerged from the Bayou, horses' hooves going from soft sandy soil to clunking on a wooden boardwalk. Ocean waves crashed nearby, and the skeletons stopped, trading the group off to another group of skeletons, this group richly decorated. The leader of the new group also read the letter, and led them deep into the carnival.

            The group stared around, unable to take it all in at once. The carnival and buildings were brightly colored, though rickety with age, and old battered docks were wet with brine. Large kraken sat on the docks and made their way through parts of the carnival, alongside more skeletons and a large amount of men and women dressed like jesters. Music that was almost hypnotic and addictive to listen to floated through the carnival; they could see a gazebo in the distance that held a band made of the jesters. Drinks passed around in abandon; no one seemed quite sober except the motionless skeleton guards that stood at intervals around the carnival.

            "See them?" Alan addressed the party, pointing out the jesters. "Whatever you do my friends _do not let them touch you. They are plague wretches. They carry diseases and exchange theme as easily as we shake hands. They can't kill instantly, but you won't be out of the bayou before the disease they gave you strikes you down." He shook off, then smiled again._

            "Thanks for the warning." Said Peppy graciously.

            The skeletons stopped, and a skeletal man swaggered up to them, dressed very well, clearly of a higher rank then all those around him. The plague wretches and other skeletons parted to let him through, some of the skeletons saluting or bowing. "Ah I had heard rumors of a traveling party. I am pleased to know that is true." He glanced around at the party, smiling when he saw Katt. "And a diverse group you are."

            "Letter from Demoiselle Antunes, milord." Said the skeleton, passing it over.

            "Ah the Demoiselle!" His smile grew, reading through the letter, raising his eyebrows. "Well, my gracious. A mortal party wishes to see Momus…" He looked at them over the letter. "That makes you either very brave… or very, very foolish."

            "We have urgent business, Baron." Peppy said, assuming Momus to be another name for the Jack of Tears.

            "Ah indeed, so the Demoiselle says…" He folded the letter and put it in his pocket. "Well, you may dismount, my men will stable your… horses." He raised his eyebrows again at the unicorn, which snorted in warning. "I will ask about that later, if we are on good terms…"

            The group willingly dismounted, and a pair of skeletons collected the reins and left, going to another part of the carnival.

            "The letter also said that while you, young man, are in charge…" He looked at Fox, who nodded once. "You, good sir, are the negotiator." He looked at Peppy.

            "Indeed."

            "Well then, I'll take you to him." He lifted a hand, beckoning, and led them through the carnival, the plague wretches and skeletons still parting.

            "And what is this? What goes on here?" Said another voice, and another man swaggered up, dressed as a grander version of the plague wretches. He was smiling, and a few members of the party winced back—this man carried with him the stench of disease and plague.

            "They wish to see the Jack of Tears, Lord Quick." The Baron Mirth narrowed his eyes.

            "Indeed? Very odd… such bravery…" He eyed the party, as if sizing them up.

            "Indeed. We must move on, and if I hear of any trouble between these people and your plague wretches…" The Baron left the threat hanging, and moved on.

            "Heee heee heee…" Lord Quick giggled. "You do like to believe you are more powerful then me, do you not, Baron Mirth? Hee hee hee…" He grinned and disappeared into the crowd, talking to his nearby plague wretches, who also disappeared, now on a new assignment.

            "Momus?"

            "Ah Baron Mirth? What brings you here?" The Jack of Tears smiled, pressing his fingertips together. He was dressed in incredibly ornate clothing, a dozen colors splashed over his clothes, gold and silver touched here and there. He held a mask over his face, though the group could see a dark, pointed face behind it. They felt his gaze flick over them. "Outsiders?"

            "Yes indeed. They have a… rather interesting proposal for you."

            "Indeed? Well then, introduce yourselves." He twirled a wand in the fingers of his other hand, eying the group still.

            "Fox McCloud, paladin fighting beside the King's own." Fox said, stepping forward. "These are my traveling companions. Sir Peppy Hare of the King's Knights is our esteemed diplomat." Peppy nodded. "Falco Lombardi is our thief. He's Guild certified and has allies among dragonkind." Falco stepped forward, cape fluttering, and nodded. "Slippy Toad is our Gadgetmaster Mage, and he has allies among wood elves." Slippy nodded, bowing. "Katt Monroe is our Sorceress, and Bill Grey is one of the King's guards as well as a Gladiator."

            "Interesting group." The Jack smiled, only partly visible behind the mask. "Very interesting. And it must be an even more interesting proposal if you caught the attention of the good Baron Mirth." 

            "I suppose so, Lord Momus." Said Peppy. "Are you willing to discuss it?"

            "Oh, why not? Little else has been amusing this day." He twitched a finger, and a table appeared in front of him, as well as another chair.

            "We shall wait elsewhere, if you please." Said Falco.

            "Of course. I suppose only your negotiator and team leader are needed." The Jack wove a hand, and the other four team members bowed and left, led out by the Baron Mirth.

            "What do you think?" Slippy asked, rubbing his chin.

            "What about?" Alan bounced up, carrying several large mugs. He kept one and passed the others to the party members. Falco took two.

            "I think we may have a chance." Said Falco, watching the partying around them with an amused smile. "All depends on what the Jack of Tears thinks about this… Ahem, do we even know what we're offering in trade for his alliance?"

            "Not a clue." Said Katt, shaking her head.

            "So what do we do now?" Bill enquired, tail wagging in time to the beat.

            "I'm gonna play with the band." Said Alan with a happy grin. "About time what I remember has any good usage…" He bolted back what was in the mug and tossed it aside.

            "You go ahead, we're going to find a table and wait." Said Falco, and Alan bounced off into the crowd. "I get the feeling this will take a while."

            Time wore on slowly. The sun crested in the sky and sank, and still the addictive music flowed over the group. Bill ended up leaving the table in favor of joining a group of card players, quite used to it apparently, because not long later he was gathering brightly colored chips from the others. Slippy produced one of his tomes and started reading, leaving Katt and Falco to talk.

            "Still don't like me much, do you?" Falco asked, looking at her over the rim of a mug.

            "You shouldn't drink that…" She warned.

            "We ate breakfast with the Demoiselle and you're worried about a little ale." He seemed amused, finishing the mug off and setting it down.

            "Well, yes… I don't want you to become like these people." She nodded around.

            "I didn't know you cared."

            "Why shouldn't I?"

            "Oh, let me see… I'm a thief, to the point I'm certified as a Guild member. I can't read. I can't write. You claim I have no manners…" He ticked off each one on his fingers absently.

            "Falco, we have worked together for how long now?" She inquired.

            "So?"

            She tapped her fingers together absently. "Can we call each other friends?"

            He looked at her, then slowly smiled. "Yes, I think so. Would you like to dance?"

            She blinked at him, then looked out at the jovial crowd. "I can waltz, but…"

            "And I heard that elves knew how to party…"

            She looked at him. "Did I say I couldn't dance, Lombardi?"

            He laughed and bounced easily to his feet. "Well prove it Monroe."

            She stood and took his arm, and they went out on to the dance floor—or what was being used as one, it was really just a wooden platform. Falco took her hand and tossed her out, making Katt's long hair lift and swirl as she stepped. She released his hand and completed the spin, then took his hands and fell in step with the other dancers, easily adapting to their somewhat wild and fast dancing style.

            "Does the King know of this?" The Jack of Tears asked, leaning his elbows on the table, studying Fox's map.

            "No, but I doubt he will argue. He does little with this section of land, or any land past the mountains."

            "Aye, so I have seen. All I have noticed are small bands of traders, and they seem little allied with the King." The Jack set his mask down and rubbed his chin. "Interesting proposition indeed. Now wonder that the good Baron was interested in this… he has always wished we expand our borders." He studied the two speaking to him. "But what is it that you wish in return?"

            "Your alliance in the war." Fox responded.

            "Indeed. So this continues to get more and more intriguing… Why would the King need my alliance in the war? He's never cared for me before, and I'm quite sure he has no feelings of friendship now."

            "He doesn't need to know until after the fact." Said Peppy carefully.

            The Jack of Tears grinned. "I believe that we are going to get along very well."

            "Oh?"

            "Not only are you brave enough to hold a conversation with me, you are daring enough to bargain away the King's land without him knowing, which is almost surely a beheading offense." He continued his dark grin, eyes full of maniacal laughter. "I take it the King isn't aware he is loosing?"

            "I severely doubt it, Lord Momus."

            "Well well… I have before me a chance to rescue the King's army, and perhaps earn his alliance for good… Leave me to my thoughts." He sat down, pressing his fingertips together. "I believe I should have to ponder this one for a time."

            Both nodded and bowed, Fox leaving his map on the table.

            "What news?" Slippy looked up when he saw Fox and Peppy emerge from the Jack of Tear's throne room.

            "He's considering. I think we've got him won over, but I'm not sure." Said Peppy. "Where is everyone, pray tell?"

            "Bill's gambling. Katt and Falco are dancing." Slippy poked his nose back into his tome.

            A minor pulse of magic went through the air, and they saw the Baron Mirth and Lord Quick work their way through the crowd toward the throne room. After a moment, a giant black kraken surfaced from the ocean and came up on the land, circling around to the back of the throne room, adorned with multiple jewels and holding multiple scepters. Another flash of magic, and the Demoiselle came riding in on a bloodmare, coming to a halt in front of the throne room and dismounting. She saw the party in the crowd and flashed a smile at them before entering, skirts swirling.

            "Now what do you suppose…?" Slippy asked, staring.

            "Oh it's just a meeting." Alan suddenly appeared, wrapping an arm across Fox's shoulders for support, breath reeking of ale, holding a violin in one hand. "They do that sometimes… Th' Jack just called all his council together… th' kraken was Queen Ran… she's a black magician… cold hearted…"

            "Thank you for explaining." Fox helped Alan sit down. "Tipple a wee bit too much, did we?"

            Alan giggled. "Aw too much is never enough!"

            "Did you understand that?" Bill looked at Fox.

            "In a sense." Fox sat down, staring out at the crowd. "Now all we can do is wait…"

            "Not necessarily." Said another voice, and a skeleton swaggered up. "I heard you are a paladin, is that true?"

            "Well yes." Fox blinked.

            "Perhaps, then, you would agree to a bit of a sparring contest?" The skeleton grinned.

            "Did your Baron Mirth agree to this?"

            The skeleton paused. "I am one of his commanders, mortal sir. I am not suggesting we attempt to destroy each other. I am just suggesting an… exhibition of skill."

            "I believe I can agree to that." Fox stood.

            "You sure?" Bill looked at him.

            "Don't worry about it, Grey. I doubt he wants to face the Baron's wrath if I am wounded." Fox quietly replied, then stepped forward. "Where will this be held?"

            "Oh, we will use the dance floor. I'm sure the plague wretches would like a moment to fetch more drinks."

            "All right, then."

            The crowd, as if they knew what was going on, parted for the skeleton. The dance floor willingly cleared, though Katt and Falco went over to Fox to investigate what was going on.

            "Just a friendly sparring contest." Said Fox, straight faced.

            "Well naturally he challenges you…" Falco shook his head.

            "I suppose." Fox walked onto the dance floor, boots clicking very softly on the worn wood, then turned to face the skeleton. "Your move."

            The skeleton drew a pair of falchions, easily flipping them in his hands and swinging them, showing off as they circled. Fox drew his Katana, which lit up intense white and blue in this evil place. The circle of people watching winced back from the harsh light as he twirled it one handed, spinning it into a disk of light.

            "Mortals first by all means." Said the skeleton after a few moments.

            "Thank you." Said Fox, and lunged forward, bringing his sword up. The tip of it drew a dark, burned line in the worn wood as he swung it, knocking both falchions away then stepping into a more combat appropriate stance, deflecting the skeleton's swings and swinging back. After a few moments of close combat, the pair backed off again, stepping back into ready stances. The crowd around them had fallen into an even clap, goading them on.

            "Not bad… so far…" The skeleton remarked.

            "Not so bad yourself." Fox drew his other sword and changed his position to accommodate for them both. "Shall we?"

            "Let's."

            The two lunged simultaneously, swords clashing, both going into combination attacks, Fox speeding up to match the skeleton. Since his opponent was an undead, there were a few challenges here—the skeleton didn't get tired, and didn't have the constraints of muscle. He supposed it was like fighting his father years ago, and focused on tactics.

            The skeleton continued to block his attacks, but it was obvious that both were putting a lot of effort into the fight, finally falling into something not far from being a sword dance, fairly balanced. Of course, if they had been trying for killing blows, it would have been ended a while ago. But they were just showing off, and the skeleton, being of high rank, refused to turn down a chance to do so. Fox, meanwhile, didn't so much want the attention as the practice.

            The crowd around them continued to grow, necromantic golems standing along the edges with plague wretches and skeletons sitting on their shoulders and backs for better views.

            "How now? What is going on out there?" Wondered Lord Quick, looking over his shoulders toward the closed double doors.

            "We shall find out after this council is over." Said the Jack of Tears, leaning over the map. "So. Are we in agreement, then?"

            "I agree." Said Baron Mirth.

            "As do I." Said the Demoiselle.

            "And I." Said Queen Ran.

            "Lord Quick?" The Jack of Tears glanced at him.

            "It would seem I am badly outnumbered… all right, I step down my protests and agree."

            "It's settled down. Now, my good Baron, you are sure you can work with Lord Quick efficiently?"

            "Yes. I believe the bulk of the forces should be my skeletons as well. We do not want to inflict plague wrongly on the King's own."

            "Agreed. Now, as for support…"

            He paused when the building shook.

            "Perhaps we should investigate that first?" Suggested the Demoiselle.

            "Perhaps." The Jack of Tears said, and proceeded forward, picking up his mask and wand, holding his mask over his face as the doors opened ahead of him.

            What they saw was a huge crowd of people standing around the dance floor, shouting and clapping, the harsh clang of swords carrying over their jumbled voices. Flashing light could also be seen from the direction of the dance floor. The five, led by the Jack of Tears, hurried forward, the crowd parting for them as fast they could, letting them see what was going on. 

            The Baron Mirth's highest ranking skeleton was sword fighting with Fox, both holding two swords, going into impressive moves and deflecting each other's blades easily. Both were moving extremely fast, and lightning was crawling over Fox's blades, though neither seemed to notice.

            "Baron?" The Demoiselle inquired.

            "_I know nothing of this." He replied, crossing his arms._

            "Perhaps it was time this ended." Suggested the Jack of Tears, and clapped his hands together sharply, wand and mask floating in midair for a moment while he did.

            Fox and the skeleton stopped simultaneously, both turning to face the Jack, sheathing their weapons and bowing as one.

            "We apologize." Said Fox simply. "We did not mean to disturb you."

            "You didn't." Said the Baron. "Was there trouble?" He looked sharply at the skeleton.

            "No sir, merely a friendly sparing contest."

            "We need to speak with your group, Fox." Said the Jack. "If you please?"

            Fox's group assembled from where they stood in the crowd, following the five denizens of the Blood Bayou back to the throne room.

            "I apologize again for that." Fox said. "I wasn't aware that…"

            "No apology is needed." Said the Baron. "None at all." He looked at the Jack.

            "We have come to a decision, with little trouble. We have agreed to assist in your war."

            Peppy smiled. "We're glad."

            "We do have a good army, but it would probably be best if we did not travel with you." The Jack twirled his wand easily, setting his mask down and handing Fox his map back. "Perhaps if we gave you something to summon us with…?"

            "That would work well, yes." Fox agreed.

            "Well then." The Jack produced a carved bone amulet, holding it by a silver chain. It spun in the air, glowing softly. He passed it to Peppy. "This will summon us to where we are needed."

            "Thank you, Lord Momus."

            "No, it is my pleasure. You are helping me more then we are helping you. Now in the mean time, you should be moving on… we all agree that there is not much time left for what remains of the King's Army."

            Not long later, the group had saddled up and said their goodbyes. Alan, with permission from the Demoiselle to use one of her Bloodmares, led them to the borders of the Blood Bayou.

            "You may as yet see me again, kind sirs." Alan said happily. "Even a violinist has a place in war!"

            "Agreed." Peppy said. "Thank you for your help, Alan."

            "Oh it was no trouble no trouble at all…" He wove a hand. "You must move on and we must prepare. Farewell."

            The group nodded, starting down the little-used road toward the border.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Apex of the Storm

Section Eleven: Apex of the Storm

            "Sir! SIR!"

            "WHAT?" Pepper nearly roared, looking up. He was crouched in a healer's tent at the back lines, some of his armor removed so the healer could work on his arm. The armor was ruined as well; he had taken a hit from a fireball, and it had knocked him cleanly off his horse. One of his aides had pulled him out of battle immediately as more black knights bore down on their front lines, taking down soldier after soldier. Even as he shouted, he saw in the distance another one of their dragons come crashing to the ground, four black dragons on it.

            "Problems on the left flank, sir! We need you!"

            He cursed, watching the healer finish hurriedly and standing, flexing his arm. It still throbbed, but it worked, and wasn't agony to move anymore. He picked up his sword and left the tent, swinging back astride his warhorse. The soldier that had arrived also swung aside a horse, galloping behind the lines. Cannonballs and blasts of fire rained down around them, but the soldiers were dodging the majority of them now.

            Pepper watched his soldiers as they fell back and regrouped, then took another stand. His once grand army had been cut down to less then a quarter of their strength, most of which was wounded, the rest exhausted. But they refused to give in to Andross' army. Better to die then to give in, and they knew it.

            The left flank was in a state of chaos. Soldiers who had once stood by the king were now attacking their own fellows, eyes bright with insanity, ranting. The ones they attacked were panicked, unwilling to lift weapons against their own allies, backing up farther and farther as black knights and soldiers of Andross charged against the collapsing flank.

            "STAND FIRM!" Pepper shouted, leaping to the front of the lines, deflecting his own soldier's swords away. "STAND FIRM! FORCE THEM DOWN! DO IT!"

            They slowly fell in ranks with him, working against their maddened counterparts, trapping them between them and Andross' charging line. The Black Knights hit first, crossbow bolts and magic lancing up the backs of the maddened King's own. They fell, their mounts bucking and screaming as they too were caught up and killed by the raging wind of evil.

            Pepper reared his horse, spinning his sword in the air with his good arm, urging the severely shaken left flank to move up even with the rest of the lines, meeting Andross' forces while they hit. War cries and shrieks split the air at the same time, rage and death at the same intervals.

            "DRAGON!"

            Both lines scattered back as a black dragon dove at them, mouth opening and releasing a gout of acid. They had both learned the black dragons didn't care whose side they hit as long as they hit the enemy in some way, shape, and form. Unfortunate soldiers screeched as they died, flesh boiled from their bones by the hot acid. Another black joined the first, adding his breath weapon to the first's.

            A gold screamed, coming out of nowhere and hitting the side of the second black dragon, digging all claws in and ripping, driving the black down. The first black left off another blast of acid, but only hit his fellow as the gold dodged, then let loose a spray of white-hot fire, charging the remaining black. The black screamed, grappling with the gold in a dance of death as they pummeled to the ground.

            "My god…" Pepper made a religious sign to himself, shaking his head. 

            "Sir…" One of his aides stood nearby, staring as the dragons crashed to the ground. Even at this distance, they could hear sickening snaps as bones were crushed in the fall, hear screams of pain, and see blood splatter up. After a long moment the gold limped into view, holding one back leg tucked up to its body, wings open for balance. After a moment, it looked right at them, then collapsed to the ground with a soft moan.

            "I know." Pepper looked toward Andross' stronghold, holding his injured arm absently. "We need a miracle."

            Fara leaned on the window, staring out. She could feel Andross' magic raging over the battlefield, driving his soldiers on through some rough healing and a lot of rage, pummeling her father's lines. She could only watch as dragons fought and died over the battlefield, as her father's lines fell back and regrouped again and again.

            "It will be worse for your father's lines once night falls." Felocial said, entering the room with an easy stride, carrying a covered tray and setting it on a table. "They are denying what has already happened."

            "And that is?"

            "They've lost, of course. They've sustained so many losses nothing else is true."  She smiled. "You see, milady Fara… your father has a very proud army…"

            "They are trained to be so." She said, not looking at the Drow.

            "And that shall be their death." Was the cheerful reply.

            "What will happen to me then?"

            "Oh you'll be held here, and Andross will approach your father. Even if your father's army falls, you're still useful… your father will be much more agreeable with your life in the balance." The Drow shrugged. "Besides… Andross is a bit fond of you…"

            Fara winced. "I would rather he not be."

            "Oh, don't say that. Andross is not as evil as you think he is…"

            "That's all your perspective, now isn't it?"

            She laughed. "I suppose so."

            Fara stared out the window, closing her eyes and letting out a breath as she was visually swept onto the battlefield again, watching as part of her father's line fell back, then rallied and charged back into battle, deflecting away arrows and fireballs as they could.

            "So. That's how it is."

            "Hmm?" She jolted back to reality, looking at Felocial.

            "You're a Visionary. Didn't someone at least train you to use your powers?" The Drow set her hands on her hips. "That's been happening to you for years, hasn't it?"

            "Every now and then." She shrugged.

            "Humph. That would be something to tell Andross, then…" The Drow left, muttering to herself.

            Fara sighed, folding her arms around herself and shivering. She couldn't escape the feeling of cold that clung to this place… and she knew she might never leave it. She leaned on the windowsill, staring out, and felt herself be swept up again, seeing through someone else's eyes again… but it wasn't a battlefield this time. No, she had connected to someone else's mind that was approaching the battlefield from afar… Did her father have more solders coming? She didn't think so. So who was this? She frowned to herself, watching as the view shifted, and she saw a Guild thief and a Knight, then a familiar voice came to her ears.

            _'McCloud?' She wondered, and for a moment, hope sprang in her._

            There was a long pause, then he seemed to know she was there. _'__Phoenix__?'_

Then the connection was ripped apart, and she sat on the stone floor, feeling dazed, but somehow, she wasn't cold anymore.

            "Fox? What's wrong?"

            "I'm… not sure." He had stopped, lifting a hand to his temple. "I could have sworn that…" His frown deepened for a moment. "It's nothing… just an odd feeling."

            "You're always getting odd feelings." Falco smiled a bit.

            "That's because I'm used to nature and the wilds. Your domain is the city."

            "Very true."

            Distant battle cries reached them, and they saw dragons fighting on the horizon. They stopped again, watching.

            "And you say Andross is winning?" Bill asked.

            "Yes, by an extreme margin."

            "Let's go, then. I have no wish to loose this war."

            General Pepper watched as another of Andross' lines smashed into his own, pressing his army farther and farther back. This line was commanded by a small, elite group of the Fists of Hextor, and his soldiers of Heironeous fell back, then took another stand.

            Battle cries sounded off behind his army, and for a brief, horrifying moment, Pepper thought he had been flanked, then he turned and saw a small group charging down from the foothills into battle, spreading out from an arrow formation, horses leaping over his lines and landing right into battle. An elf stopped at his lines and started casting healing magic, and a mage stopped even with his lines, raining down fire on Andross' lines. The others went right into battle, the leader of the small group expertly maneuvering on a unicorn, slaying Black Knight after Black Knight. Two of the other four dismounted, their horses returning to stand beside the mage, and started in on Andross' foot soldiers. He recognized the fighting style and grace of one of them—one of his own guards, William Grey. ALIVE? Pepper stared a moment. He had been told via messengers that Grey's entire unit had been wiped out.

            After a long moment, he recognized the leader on the unicorn as well, who was shouting orders to the other three, and with a single severe gesture, rained down lightning on Andross' soldiers. The other that had stayed mounted turned and galloped back to Pepper's lines, leaping past them and approaching Pepper.

            "McCloud? Fox McCloud?" 

            "That would be him yes." Said the one approaching him, coming to a halt. "Hello, General."

            "Hare! Of His Majesty's own Knights!" Pepper gawked, then grinned. "What are you doing here?"

            "Helping the son of an old friend." He replied, sheathing his sword and loading his bow, then turning and aiming. A brief mutter, and the arrow flew across the battlefield; enough power behind it to not only kill, but also knock the dead Black Knight completely off his mount.

            "I kept saying we needed a miracle, but I wasn't expecting in this way." Pepper rubbed his eyes, then shouted an order to his men to stand firm.

            "The Gods work in mysterious ways." 

            "Indeed."

            Fox dismounted in mid battle, pulling both swords at once, using all his training to down mounted and dismounted enemies alike. His unicorn didn't back down, rather charged and fought against the enemy, knocking those mounted off their horses and doing battle with black unicorns. No longer was the mare's coat white, but it had been splattered and stained red. It retained its connection to Fox, using his prompting to know what enemy soldier to target.

            "Not bad." A Black Knight halted and dismounted, setting his hands on his hips. "When you can ambush…"

            "I can see my presence was not expected." Fox replied, letting his arms relax, easily returning the Black Knight's gaze. "Perhaps you thought a victory was insured now?"

            "That we did. The way I see it, we'll just have to work a bit harder. En guarde, young servant of Heironeous!" With that, the Black Knight attacked.

            Fox brought up both swords and deflected the great sword away, using his broad sword to block and his Katana to return blows. The enemy Knight was fast, certainly, but he was just as fast, and unlike when Fox had been fighting the skeleton, now he could score wounding blows. His cape whipped around, interfering with the Knight's view, and Fox brought his Katana up, aiming for a gap in the Knight's armor.

            Blood flew in a crescent fan as he completed his pass, and the Knight yelped once, a shrill harsh noise, stepping back. Blood dripped from his shoulder in a steady stream, the cut was obviously deep.

            "First blood. I congratulate you." The Knight said thickly, tightening the armor over the cut in an attempt to stop the flowing blood.

            "Thank you." Fox said, circling his enemy slowly. "Are you able to continue?"

            "Any less would be a blow to my honor." And the Knight attacked again.

            Fox went on the defense, then got more aggressive, finally sending his enemy's sword flying with a flick of his wrist and lunging forward with the other arm. His Katana completely ignored the Knight's armor, piercing through as if nothing was there. His next movement sent his enemy to the ground and pulled the Katana out as he set a foot on his enemy's chest. The Knight didn't fight the pressure, too wounded to fight back—he was dying.

            "I hope you come up against one of Hextor's servants." Spat the Knight.

            "I hope I do too." He lifted his foot and moved on.

            Sooner then anyone expected, Andross' line collapsed on itself and retreated to reform, watching the King's army from a distance as they prepared for heavier combat.

            Falco whooped and made a number of religious gestures upward, returning to Pepper's lines as the rest of the group did. "I do believe they weren't expecting us."

            "That would be my guess." Said Bill, sheathing his sword. "Afternoon, General."

            "Yes, afternoon. I thank you, gentlemen and lady. I do believe you may have saved our lives." Pepper looked at the small group. "But I'm not sure for how long." He looked across the battlefield at Andross' stronghold, watching as several black dragons took wing, gathering and waiting for the command.

            "Falco, that is your division. If you will please?" Fox said, glancing at the thief.

            "Of course." Falco separated from the group, redrawing his sword.

            "Beg pardon?" Pepper frowned. "How do you fight airborne dragons? The golds that were helping us are all wounded."

            "Simple, good sir. You bring in more dragons."

            "WHAT?"

            Falco looked at the sword and sighed. _'Well, I'm supposed to know how to call them. Really I don't… I don't know what I'm doing… what in Heaven's name?!'_ His sword suddenly lit up in fire, and he held it up, pointing it at the heavens. He felt the spirit in the sword grow restless, then suddenly a booming roar cracked from his chest.

            In reply, distant roars came from the mountains, punctuated by thunder.

            "They'll come." Said Slippy, fingering the whistle around his neck.

            "Yes, I suspect we will need help from you allies. And yours as well." Fox looked at Peppy. "I'm not sure how fast the summoning charms will work… use them when you feel the time is right…"

            "Perhaps you could tell me what is going on?" Pepper interrupted.

            "We made some friends along the way." Said Falco evasively as he returned to the group. "Some of which are on their way right now."

            "What happened?" Andross asked, standing on top of one his towers and staring down at the currently silent battlefield.

            "We aren't sure sir." O'Donnel replied. "As near as we know, all of the sudden the King's army got support from a small group of elites. Our soldiers weren't ready for it and fell easily to them."

            "Well, then. Perhaps it is time to put our elites out then." He crossed his arms.

            "Yes sir!"

            "They're getting ready to attack again." Pepper noted. "Stand ready men! They're coming again!"

            "Perhaps now would be a good time for those charms. Slippy, yours first. We could use the archers." Fox said, craning his neck around. "And there are Falco's friends… about time."

            "I heard that…" Said a familiar voice, and the same copper dragon they spoke to landed beside them roughly. "It's a long flight."

            "And an even longer ride." Falco replied, looking around at the large flight of dragons hovering around, watching the black dragons and waiting. "Thanks for coming."

            "Our pleasure." The copper took flight again.

            "My god." Pepper said reverently. "You must be good negotiators."

            "Falco has a Dragon Spirit sword. We also did the Coppers a minor favor during our travels." Said Peppy.

            Slippy had lifted the whistle to his lips, and distant, windy notes floated through the air, throwing themselves at the heavens. Those nearby looked toward him curiously, then a vortex opened behind the King's army, a host of elves on foot and riding somewhat wild looking mares and stallions emerged, all ready for battle.

            "We were wondering when you would contact us." Said the one in the lead. "General Pepper, a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

            "The pleasure is mine." Pepper replied, raising his eyebrows. "I thank you for coming to assist us."

            "No, no thanks needed. It is our fate to. You see, think what the king might, we live in his country, so it is our land too, and we must defend it."

            "Just so."

            "We have one more ally I just inform you both of now. Pepper, you must inform your men of this too. Our last ally is the Jack of Tears." Said Fox.

            "You're kidding." Was the flat reply from Pepper.

            "No. We reached a deal, you might say. At Peppy's signal, he will bring his army here to assist us. You must explain to your men that they are not enemies, but they should stay well out of the way of the Jack of Tear's minions."

            "I will tell them." Pepper said, turning from them and going to his men.

            The black dragons finally dove at the King's men, which got into defensive positions. However, before the black dragons could reach them, the newly arrived metallic dragons attacked the blacks, defending the King's lines.

            At the same time the metallics attacked, the elves released a wave of arrows at Andross' lines. Their accuracy was deadly, and their melee fighters joined the King's fighters, strengthening the worn and weary lines.

            "Peppy!" Fox yelled, and made a gesture as if he was cupping an amulet to his chest. "NOW!"

            Peppy fired one last arrow, sending a blast of fire out over Andross' lines when it hit, then swung the bow over his shoulder and picked up the amulet. After a moment, he hit the glyphs carved into it in quick succession, and magic pounded out from him, cold and throbbing.

            A storm gathered behind the King's lines, black lightning cracking and hitting the ground, then hitting in a solid curtain of magical electricity. It parted, and who walked out but the Jack of Tears himself, riding a black unicorn. Pacing him on his left was the Baron Mirth, on a blood mare. Behind them rallied a huge crowd of skeleton soldiers, necromantic golems, alligator warriors, and plague wretches.

            "God help us!" Blurted one of the King's knights.

            "You might be surprised, but he is." Fox wheeled his unicorn and galloped back to meet the Jack of Tears.

            "Are we fashionably late?" Lord Momus smiled a bit.

            "Yes indeed. We need you on the lines right now. I'd like to put some of the Elven archers on top of the golems in place of the skeleton archers, if you don't mind…"

            "Sounds right." He lifted his wand and let out a battlecry, and his army rallied behind him. Without waiting for a signal, he charged, sweeping down at the battlefield. The King's army got hastily out of the way, and the two evil armies smashed together. Fox had gotten out of the way of the Jack of Tear's army, and now waded into battle himself.

            "General Pepper, sir." The Jack of Tears said, easily navigating the battlefield to stand beside the human general. The Baron Mirth had already taken over commanding his skeletons, and was pushing Andross back. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

            "Charmed." Pepper managed as he deflected arrows away with his shield.

            "I imagine your men are not." The Jack of Tears grinned. "But they will have to suffer with the indignity."

            "First he kills my diplomats and now he fights against me. The Jack of Tears has been known for being chaotic in his decisions, but why would he ally with people so different then himself?" Andross wondered aloud as he strode down the main corridor of his stronghold.

            "Couldn't say." Said Wolf, adjusting some of his armor. "But there is a slight personal matter I must attend to."

            "_We must attend to." Pigma corrected._

            "Oh really?" Andross stopped, looking at the two Fists of Hextor. "And what is that?"

            "McCloud's son is fighting against us right now, Emperor. I took care of his father, I can take care of him." Pigma's eyes burned with an insane fire.

            "No, no. The pleasure is mine." Wolf said quietly.

            "Well, take care of business then." Andross wove a hand, and the two Fists of Hextor disappeared down the corridor.

            "We're pressing them back." Shouted Falco to Fox. "Slowly but surely."

            "That's the way to do it." Fox had dismounted again, and a circle of destruction had spread around him. He felt lightheaded from using magic, and a long, thin cut ran up one cheek, but otherwise he was unwounded. As he fought, he sensed the battle raging around him, and suddenly felt intense malice… directed at him.

            He blocked the sword being swung at him and dropped, the arrow passed over him just as he did, hitting his enemy. The enemy soldier screamed as acid ate away at his armor and his flesh, dropping to the ground with a gurgle.

            Fox slowly stood, all muscles tense. He knew that potion.

            "McCloud."

            The battlefield had cleared around them, and two Fists of Hextor stood there, looking at him, the older of the two holding a crossbow. "Dengar. O'Donnel." He said by way of greeting, voice tense. "May I help you?"

            "You're causing us a good bit of trouble…" Dengar took a step forward.

            "You framed my father into execution, Dengar. I don't truly care if you don't like what I'm doing." He fingered the hilt of his Katana absently, feeling the moon phases carved into it, remembering his father practicing with it, almost dancing, beams of moonlight making the blade glow even brighter then normal. "I set out to do something, and I'm not going to let anything stop me."

            "Oh? Really?" The two Fists of Hextor started walking forward, perfectly in step, Dengar tossing the crossbow aside in favor for his broadsword. "And what if we disagree?"

            "Then I suppose that we will have to discuss it." Fox lifted his sword and pointed it straight at his enemies. "If you aren't the cowards I believe you to be."

            Wolf snarled, stepping away from Pigma and circling. Fox held himself ready, Katana falling into a combat position, keeping a wary eye on his enemies.

            "You _dare call me a coward, McCloud? When you did not have the courage to face me when we were younger?" Wolf said, voice trembling with rage._

            "I did not face you when we were younger because I knew that I would kill you." He replied coldly. "You have always been evil, O'Donnel. Even my father could not deny one of his best students had fallen from grace, and I would have not held back even if you were not talented enough to defend yourself then."

            With a shriek of fury, Wolf attacked, taking a stride forward and bringing his sword up in an arc, meaning to slash Fox across the chest to his shoulder. Fox deflected, having to spin and parry to keep from getting a sword through his back as Pigma attacked. He stepped back to face both enemies, easily spinning his wrist to make his sword flash and hum. As if they had practiced it, Pigma and Wolf attacked at the same time, making Fox take steps back and act desperately to defend himself, finally pulling his broadsword and fighting two handed.

            "Well? Don't you wish to kill me?" Pigma hissed.

            "No. I wish to bring you to justice. Nothing more." Fox leapt back and brought both swords up, making his enemies' swords fly up and back from him. Fury ate at him, burned at him, but he held it in check, keeping himself cool, fighting cleanly.

            "Do you know what Dengar said about your father's execution?" Wolf said as he circled around again, but Fox pivoted on his back foot so he remained facing both of his enemies. "He said that your father shrieked like a girl when the blade hit him. Said he wasn't even worthy of a soldier's death."

            Fox's eyes flashed and burned, muscles tensing, but he said nothing, keeping his focus on those that would kill him.

            "Your father assisted in training me, McCloud, and I couldn't agree with Dengar more. Your father was a coward, through and through."

            The pair barely saw the move. Suddenly McCloud was between them, moving so fast they barely saw the blades before Pigma lost his sword, the old Knight's sword flying from his hands and sinking into the ground over twenty feet away. Another leap, and Pigma felt the impacts in his side and defended himself against the hand-to-hand combat, but he had never excelled in the martial arts as James McCloud had and had taught his son to. One last move and he staggered back, spitting blood out, pain jolting him with each breath. It was then that Wolf attacked, and Fox spun, pulling his swords and deflecting as fast as Wolf attacked, circling each other as they fought. Wolf had pulled Pigma's sword from the ground, so they fought two swords on two, like they had been trained to so many years ago.

            Fox was on the defense and was about to move to offence when he felt the blade pierce his shoulder, lodge in between two plates of armor that only drove it deeper into his flesh. His fingers lost grip on the broadsword he held, and it tumbled to the ground as his other hand came up to hold his shoulder mindlessly, Katana sheathed, backing away from Wolf. His questing fingers found the hilt of a small throwing dagger, one of Pigma's favorite weapons.

            "Well well well. The prodigal son has been weakened." Wolf laughed, pacing forward and kicking the broadsword away. "You see McCloud that was always where you failed… you could take fighting for hours like it was nothing, you have the endurance, but not the endurance against pain. You're soft."

            Fox gritted his teeth, hissing softly as he pulled the knife out and let it fall to the trampled, muddy ground. His skin would need a few days to knit from that wound; it had effectively made his entire left arm useless in combat. He had used too many reserves to attempt healing magic now, and there were no allied wizards close enough to help him.

            He saw the blade cut the air, clearly aiming for his neck, and pulled the Katana out again, deflecting Wolf's blade away. Trying to keep his injured arm as still as possible, he deflected his enemy's swords away mindlessly, now fighting for his life. Wolf, sensing the weakness, laughed and tossed Pigma's broadsword aside.

            "Give up! You can barely defend yourself McCloud!"

            He closed his eyes for a single moment, composing himself, then opened. "Go ahead and attack me, O'Donnel. I will not surrender."

            Wolf attacked, and Fox defended himself, using his injured arm for balance and quickly regaining speed. Soon the two were fighting full force again, both determined to win.

            Pigma snorted to himself, spitting out the last of the blood. His chest was throbbing from where Fox had broken his ribs, but he could still fight, and he was actually doing more damage to Fox then Wolf was. He carefully circled around the fight, picking up the crossbow and loading a bolt to it, taking aim. As fast as the fighting pair was moving, he had as much chance of hitting his ally as hitting his enemy, and he didn't much care.

            A high-pitched whistle cut the air, and he didn't have time to duck his fate. The arrow pierced his armor as if it wasn't there, sinking into his back and between two ribs, into one of his lungs. Burning magic cut through his lungs, and he dropped to his knees, pain wracking him. He managed to lift to one knee and turn, and saw Peppy Hare, still mounted, holding the bow in a ready position.

            "For what you have done I should kill you. But I won't." Peppy said, voice carrying above the din of the battlefield, and fired one more arrow. It shot across the open space, past Fox and Wolf, and pierced into Pigma's shoulder. The arrow spread a paralyzing spell through him, freezing his injuries as he fell.

            Wolf ignored the defeat of his fellow, focusing on the fight. Fox seemed to be mostly ignoring his injury, and as the fight progressed an odd glow seemed to form around him, and Wolf couldn't help but want to wince away from it.

            "What kind of magic is that?" Wolf demanded, leaping back and taking a ready stance.

            "What are you talking about? I am performing no spells and none are being performed on me, I would know if they were." Fox gave him a look, taking a step forward and then assuming a ready stance. They circled, then met again briefly, swords becoming glowing blurs, then backed off again. Fox's glow intensified as the combat progressed, which did nothing to settle Wolf's unease.

            "You're a servant of Heironeous." He finally said, taking a wary step back.

            "Yes. Your opposite in religion." Fox narrowed his eyes.

            "Then I suppose there can be no mercy in this fight."

            "Only through your eyes." Fox pivoted his wrist, spinning his Katana in a slow circle.

            Wolf made a sudden move, sweeping down and knocking Fox's feet out from under him. But before he could come down in a coup de gras, Fox flipped to his feet and leapt over Wolf, landing behind him and bringing his elbow down on the back of his neck. Wolf collapsed forward, falling to his hands and knees.

            "Mercy is a virtue of the strong, not the weak. My father told us that many times. You never listened." With that, he brought the hilt of his sword down, effectively knocking Wolf out.

            "You are loosing now." Fara said, staring out the window at the battlefield. "To say otherwise would be to deny fate."

            "Oh? Really?" Felocial crossed her arms.

            "Indeed." She turned to look at the Drow. "You may as well release me."

            "I cannot do that."

            Fara sighed and started toward the heavy wooden door. "Someone will come for me."

            With a blur, Felocial stood there. "You cannot leave."

            She eyed her enemy, then elbowed past her. "You cannot stop me."

            A thin sword blade appeared in front of her, stopping her. "Yes. I can."

            "If you are going to stop me with a sword, have the honor to hand me one as well."

            Felocial slowly lowered the blade, thoughtful. She had seen this princess practicing moves that seemed to be very talented; she had no doubt that this young lady had trained behind her father's back. But if she failed, the punishment would be great indeed…

            "Very well." She left the room and returned with another sword, which she turned so Fara could accept it by the hilt.

            A sudden impact rocked the tower they were in, making both stagger. A huge eye peered in one window, then the tower shook again as it disappeared.

            "Dragons." Felocial spat angrily, then attacked.

            "She's in the tower? How classic." Fox said as Katt peered at his shoulder wound.

            "Couldn't agree more. Looks like that Drow's picking a fight with her, though." The copper was lying down, watching Katt work on Fox's wound, wings folded and tail twitching.

            "Battlefield has quieted down." Falco limped in, looking singed, missing a good deal of feathers out of his tail and one of his arms. "That is, if certain insane members of the Blood Bayou would stop playing their infernal musical instruments." He sat down with a moan.

            "I'll get to you in a minute." Katt promised, hands glowing as Fox's wound slowly sealed over.

            "I don't think I'm wounded. I just hurt." He sighed.

            "Hey hey hey. Andross' army has mostly retreated back to the Fortress." Alan bounced in, leapt up, and crouched on a medical table, still holding a violin. The instrument's strings and neck were whole, but the rest of the wood looked worn and cracked. "They surely deserved the beating they got, yes sir." He grinned as usual, the demented expression warping his scarring even more.

            "Ahem." Pepper came in, detaching armor as he went so no plate armor was left on his arms. "Were you the one jumping from golem to golem earlier?" He inquired, looking at Alan.

            "Oh yes that was me sir." He stood and threw his arms out as if to embrace the world. "The morale of soldiers improves when they have music sir."

            "I'm sure." Said Falco a bit sourly.

            Fox stood and worked his left shoulder, satisfied with how it had been healed, then said, "We've almost completed one thing we set out to do, and that was to assist the King's army. Now I must leave and complete what I set out to do." He started walking toward the huge fortress, his unicorn moving to pace him.

            "Fox! You can't do this alone!" Peppy shouted, hurrying to pace him. Falco, Bill, Katt, and Slippy also fell in step.

            "I can. And I will. You are all needed here." He swung astride his unicorn. "This is something I have to do, and I apologize." He dug his heels in, and his unicorn set off at a gallop that no horse could catch up to, leaving his group members behind.

            "We'll never be able to catch up." Falco said slowly.

            "He's determined to do this alone. If he believes it to be his destiny, we can do nothing." Peppy said.

            Andross' army had fallen back and taken defensive positions around the fortress, but soon had to fall back to positions inside the fortress when the dragons started hitting them.

            Fox's unicorn leapt the gap as they brought the drawbridge up, skittering down the increasing slant and charging the guards as Fox twisted and slashed the ropes, making the drawbridge come crashing down, permanently open until repaired. He was met with Black Knights, but they were worn and weary from battle, and he ploughed through them, leaving hurt and dead soldiers in his wake. Some of the advance fighters for the Jack of Tears followed him in, doing damage as they went.

            As his unicorn turned a corner, hooves clattering on the stone floor of the corridor, Fox shifted, closing his eyes as a different view flashed across his vision. He was suddenly facing a female Drow, dueling for his life.

            _'_Phoenix___.' He thought, knowing it was true, flashing back to reality and turning his steed up a set of stairs that the unicorn climbed with ease. _

            In the tower, Fara staggered, backing away from her opponent as another mind brushed hers with a velvet touch. _'McCloud.'_ She started to circle, defending herself as she did, mind distant then refocusing.

            "Another vision?" Felocial mocked, attacking viciously. Fara fought for her life, knowing if she could hold on, she should be helped. "Your… father… was… a _fool… for not telling you that you had such a talent!" With that last word, Fara's sword flew from her hands, clattering down the hallway. "And Andross has no real need for a visionary…!" She lifted her sword, and Fara backed away, eyes wide in fear as Felocial brought the sword down._

            Clang.

            Fara breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a diamond-like blade intercept and stop Felocial's, then brush it away. Taking a step back, she smiled when she saw McCloud standing there, expression calm, looking at the Drow.

            "I can't allow that." Fox coolly stated.

            "Who are you to say?" Felocial snarled, stepping back into a combat ready stance.

            "A mere woodsman."

            "A _woodsman?" She started laughing. "Well, then, this should be simple…" She stepped forward and brought her sword up._

            Fox effortlessly deflected, rolling his wrist and disarming her. "Run."

            "I will never!"

            He set the tip of his sword to her throat. "Now."

            They stared into each other's eyes, and she cried out when she saw the vast presence he threw, the pure power in his eyes, and leapt back, turning on heel and running to inform her Emperor.

            "You should have killed her." Fara remarked.

            "No. She was weak. I don't make a habit of killing those who couldn't defend themselves in the first place." He sheathed the Katana and sighed. "Now, let us leave this place." He swung back into the saddle and held his hand down.

            She picked up Felocial's sword, then grabbed his arm and swung up on her own, settling down behind him. His unicorn only snorted, turning and proceeding down the stairs. "And how is it, kind sir, that you ride a unicorn?"

            "I will explain that later." He replied, pulling his Katana back out when what was left of Andross' forces arrived to stop them. She twisted, also fighting as she was able.

            "What of Andross?"

            "Still alive."

            She gave him a look. "Not precisely how tales explain valiant rescues."

            "Your Highness, I'm not a hero." He replied as his unicorn knocked the remaining enemies down the stairs and continued downward.

            "You could have fooled me, good sir." She felt a smile touch her lips.

            "McCloud, if the King doesn't knight you, he is truly a fool." Lord Momus appeared, pointing his wand and smiting down the enemies in front of them.

            "I don't deserve to be knighted. Could you do me a favor, Lord?"

            "Depends on the favor."

            "Could you take this young Princess back to the King's lines?"

            "I would be honored." The Jack of Tears grinned, dark, pointy face making it seem more evil.

            "Can I trust him?" Fara breathed to Fox before dismounting.

            "Of course." He replied. "And also, tell the General I will be along shortly… there is one more thing I must attend to."

            "Consider it done." The Jack of Tears set his hand on Fara's shoulder, and both disappeared.

            "We have lost." Andross said, crossing his arms. A black dragon crouched nearby, ready to take off, some kind of saddle positioned between its wings. They were outside the fortress, rather a good distance behind it.

            "But, Uncle…" Andrew started.

            "No. We have. All thanks to one person…" He scowled, then held up a hand. "You must pardon me." He lowered his hands and crossed his arms, falling into a trance.

            Fox, who had been tracking the Emperor by magic, dodged his unicorn to the left as a bolt of black lightning lanced down where he had been.

            "Young fool!" Andross' voice spat. "Do you really think you can beat me! Alone!"

            "I know I must try." Fox shouted to the heavens, urging his unicorn to gallop full speed, dodging fireballs and lightning as they did.

            "Uncle! Uncle, what is happening?" Andrew asked, staring at Andross' still form. He got no answer.

            "Heironeous help me!" Fox cried as a lance of black magic came dangerously close to him. As if in reply, his aura reappeared, even if he could not see it, and he continued to track Andross, leaping through a shield of brush and landing in front of Andross.

            "Young, arrogant fool." Andross took a step back. "Well. You are not a wizard or a sorcerer. How do you plan to fight me, young paladin?"

            "I know that if I do not darkness may eventually befall this world and I cannot in good conscious allow it."

            "And how is that _your affair?"_

            That made Fox pause, considering. "It is something I must defend against. I am driven to. That is all I know."

            "Since when are servants of Heironeous muttonheads?" Snickered Andrew.

            "You keep quiet, and you just might live." Fox shot him a look.

            "I suppose we must fight, then." Andross stated.

            "If it is the only way to prevent your take over, yes."

            Andross smiled, and disappeared.

            Fox felt a vortex form around him, trying to pull him up off the ground. His steed braced, struggling against the magic force, as Fox focused on what magic he knew. After a long moment, he pulled both swords and brought them around in a pattern of slashes, remembering long ago lessons from an Elven blade singer. Arcane glyphs glowed in the air, and the vortex was interrupted by another, this one building from the ground. The two cancelled each other, and Fox dodged the fireballs Andrew threw toward him, then stood and deflected them away with swift moves of his swords. As he fought against the spells, he searched for a way to cut Andross off from his power, or a way to deal a blow to a person he couldn't see. But a solution didn't immediately present itself, and he fell to a defensive position, dodging what he could and countering the rest.

            _'McCloud!'_

            He jerked when the voice impacted his mind, then recognized it. _'__Phoenix__.'_

            _'He's mana tied! He uses the land he has corrupted to power him!_' She told him, watching the hellish magic rain down around him.

            _'Cut those ties… cut his power.'_ He nodded mentally, then yelped as lightning struck right beside him, singing his fur and making his steed scream as it was burned.

            Back where Fara stood at the King's lines, arms crossed and head tilted back, she jerked and shook her head, then swiftly looked around. The King's knights were eating and receiving healing for the most part now, and their steeds stood tied to rough posts, grazing on what little was left of the grass. She eyed the large warhorses, and settled on a well-armored white one, quickly walking over and untying the reins from the post. It looked at her as she swung easily into its saddle, then turned it to face the fortress. 

            "Your highness…!" A weary Knight that had been sitting by a fire stood to protest, but Fara was already off, her borrowed steed throwing clots of dirt as it ran.

            "Pathetic fool." Andross spat as Fox tucked and rolled, then deflected away the rest of the magic. He had dismounted, and his unicorn had limped to the edge of the battlefield, one of its flanks burned and bloodied. Fox felt the pain it did, and promised to help it when he was able. "You are loosing, McCloud! Surrender now, and I might just spare your life!"

            "I will never surrender to you!" He roared, slashing the air in another arcane spell, and magical fire pounded out from him, scorching the air as it did.

            "Then you shall die!"

            Fox felt the magic build around him, and started another spell, this time aiming to interrupt what Andross was doing and counter it.

            "Fox!"

            He turned, and saw Fara standing there on a large white charger, now wearing a cape that flapped around her as she overlooked the magical battlefield. She dug her heels in, and the charger leapt down, landing next to Fox's injured unicorn. He had automatically continued laying out the spell, but Andross' struck first, a beam of pure power striking down from the heavens.

            He lunged to get out of the way, diving to the ground then rolling to his feet, but the spell never hit. Fara stood next to him, shouting words in an arcane language, one hand wrapped around a pendant of Pelor. The blast of power had stopped above them, seemingly frozen in time, and then a spider web of cracks spread across it before it shattered, the spell dissipating.

            There was quiet for a long moment, long enough for Fox and Fara to exchange a look, then Andross appeared, easily hovering ten or so feet above the ground, holding a staff.

            "Impressive, young princess." Andross spun the staff. "But that was less then a quarter of the strength I have."

            "If I defend against his power, can you attack him?" Fara asked Fox bluntly.

            "Yes."

            "Good. Do it."

            Fox strode forward and leapt into the air, bringing his swords around as a blade dancer would, casting spells in midair as he attacked. Andross defended himself, and none of his blows fell, deflected by a shield Fara had created. Fox landed roughly on his feet, then shook off, backing away to stand alongside Fara, sheathing his broadsword and spinning his Katana. The oriental sword was glowing like a star against the evil around its holder, almost eager for the fight.

            "Where did you get that sword?" Fara asked, raising another shield around them.

            "It was my father's."

            She looked at it. "It is blessed to slay evil."

            "Yes." He was preparing for another attack, stepping back once and readying himself.

            "Then use it."

            He charged and leapt again, but this time, understood why the phases of the moon were carved into the hilt—because like the moon, it stood against darkness. He felt Fara's power build as he leapt, and released the sword. Powered by her, it flew like an arrow, and struck home.

            He landed and fell to his knees as a seeming explosion rocked the world. Bracing himself on his hands, he distantly heard screams as the once-foreboding fortress behind them fell, stones held by power coming apart and to the ground, barely holding together long enough for anyone to escape their collapse. The black dragon, which had been waiting for Andross patiently, screamed and took flight, clawing off the saddle and disappearing. He saw an entire gypsy town, sacrificed for the power, suddenly released from the curse, spirits flying beyond. Entire tribes of elves released from the evil power that had held them. Knights once ranting calming as the magic that held them from their sanity released them.

            Then the images faded, and he was sprawled on the ground on his back, looking up into Fara's eyes.

            "You're awake." She smiled and sat back. "Do want help to get to your feet?"

            "No." He managed, pushing himself up, feeling bones pop. "What happened?"

            "We won." She smiled and gestured around. They now stood in what appeared to be a normal forest. Fox's unicorn and her steed walked up, not looking bothered by the change of scenery—they had always known what was there. 

            "Thank you for your assistance. I probably would have died if you had not helped me." He patted his unicorn absently.

            "I had to."

            "Oh?" He looked at her.

            A very timid smile formed. "Well, I… I'm a visionary, of sorts, I mean… I found it very easy to touch your mind… that has not happened to me in many years… I thought that if you died…"

            He held up a hand. "Enough. I believe it would be best if we returned to your father's lines."

            "Perhaps."

            They mounted up at the same time, pacing each other back to the King's army.

            "What is going to happen now, pray tell?"

            Fox stared out over what had once been a battlefield, and sighed. "We bury the dead."


	12. Chapter Twelve: The High Cost of Honor

Section Twelve: The Cost of Honor

            "Thank you again, Lord Momus." Peppy smiled, shaking hands with the Jack of Tears.

            "Oh, it was no difficulty." The Jack of Tears grinned. Most of his Army had already retreated home, but Alan was sitting outside the tent, sawing a multitude of dance tunes off his violin, watching and laughing as King's knights danced with lady archers from the Elven army, remaining plague wretches stunned all with the acrobatics, and in the middle of it all, Falco and Katt, not bothered at all by those around them.

            "I understand you reached a… bargain with my friends here." General Pepper said, nodding at Peppy. "Care to tell me exactly what it was?"

            "Oh, land of course. Your King has little control over this area anyway, so we agreed to fight in exchange for a portion of land we can expand to. Also please tell him we're not always what people say we are… we do benefit any community in the area."

            "Oh? Really?"

            "Yes. You see General, my Bayou accepts any person not accepted by, say, YOUR society… lepers, those born deformed, or those like our very own Alan." He grinned, hooking a thumb in the direction of the insane violinist. "Which brings me to another point. Baron Mirth would like to accompany you back to your capitol as an ambassador, and Alan… well, he just wants to go, if you will allow it."

            "It's the least I can do." Was the gracious reply. "For all of the help you provided…"

            "And what of us?" The Elven General inquired.

            "You're welcome to send a diplomat with us as well… I understand your army will be accompanying us for a portion of the journey as it is. What do you wish in return for your services?"

            "The deed to our land."

            "Consider it done."

            "McCloud?"

            Fara climbed the steep hill to where Fox stood, overlooking the encampment. Once scouts had confirmed that Andross' army was gone, the exhausted King's army had immediately set up camp, after falling back to a point where the Jack of Tear's army could comfortably retreat the rest of the way home. As soon as the Army had recovered, they would return to the capitol.

            "Yes?" Fox asked, looking over his shoulder. "Oh. Evening, Milady."

            She nodded, joining him, looking down at the camp, listening to the music. Fox's unicorn grazed nearby, various hurts cured with a brief touch of the Jack of Tear's wand.

            "You keep unusual company kind sir." She remarked, looking at him. "I doubt any other knight would agree to travel beside those you do."

            "I am not a knight, Milady."

            "A paladin, then. You travel with a thief, good sir, even if he seems to be a good man in his own right…"

            "Falco his extremely talented in what he does, and he has talents the rest of us do not. He adds what is needed to the group."

            There was relative silence for a long moment, then she said, "You seem distant, kind sir."

            "Merely thoughtful." He sighed softly, stepping over to a fallen tree and sitting, still staring down at the camp.

            "Please, share your thoughts." She sat next to him, curious.

            "Do you know of my father?"

            "Knew of him, but never met him. I heard he was a great knight and crusader… though my father once told me he had fallen from grace and was no longer considered a knight, even in death."

            "He was framed for the murder of his commander. The man who framed him is sitting down there right now." He gestured at the camp, voice tone odd.

            "One of the captured Fists of Hextor?"

            "Yes, the older of the two. He was once a knight in your father's Army, a crusader as my father had been… I am not sure what happened, and neither is my comrade Hare, but he grew angry with my father, and sought to have him removed. He succeeded, and fled soon thereafter, before anyone could prove my father was wrongly accused."

            "Thus why they are being held."

            "Yes. I wish to clear my father's name. He does not deserve the dishonor his name receives."

            "And neither do you."

            "What do you mean?" He glanced at her.

            "I overheard one of your friends talking to one of my father's knights, about why they ended up here, helping. He said that my father dishonored you, sir McCloud… dishonored your family's name."

            Fox ducked his head down and said nothing.

            "I would like to apologize for him."

            Fox stood. "I'm sorry, Milady, but only the clearing and recognition of my father will be apology enough."

            She also stood. "You are aware that you could be knighted for your needs, are you not? I heard General Pepper talking to his aides about it… you have done more then your share."

            "As did you." He walked over to his unicorn, rubbing his hands over the mare's neck.

            "No. I did as I felt I should. I knew I could help you. It was you that struck the final blow."

            He said nothing.

            "Look at me, sir McCloud."

            He turned and did, cape blowing up around him as the wind picked up, a tendril of hair blowing across one eye. He looked tired, and a very faint, almost unperceivable aura still surrounded him. His armor was battered, and she knew that on one of his shoulders and part of his back, it was stained with his blood. She folded his arms and looked at him, long hair tossing in the wind, not bothering to mask a shiver at the cold ocean wind—she no longer wore a cloak. Fox reached up and undid the clasp of his cape, swirling it off with an easy move of his wrists, and wrapping it over her shoulders, hooking it at her throat.

            "I thank you."

            "No. My pleasure." He looked back over the encampment for a moment, then back at her.

            "You did not expect that you would ever fight, did you?"

            "No, Milady." He sighed. "I am not a fighter, or even a paladin, as I have been traveling under. I am a woodsman."

            "Who bears the blessing of Heironeous." She had to smile at the mental image, a hunter traveling through the woods, putting off an intense white aura because of his connection to his god. Then again, why not?

            "Is that what you believe?"

            "Yes. Why fight your destiny, sir McCloud?"

            "Because it is not my destiny."

            "And who are you to say?"

            He crossed his arms, looking down at her. She looked right back, staring boldly into his blue eyes. "And who are you to deny what I think?"

            "I have more grounds then you, as a visionary."

            "Perhaps." He turned away again, shaking off. He shouldn't be allowing this. He shouldn't even be talking to her… he was unworthy.

            "Sir. Look at me."

            "I'm not supposed to look you in the eye, Milady. I am a commoner."

            "You found nothing wrong with it at your cabin."

            He said nothing.

            "Well, have it your way. As royalty to commoner, I command you to look at me."

            He sighed and turned back, feeling himself grow weary. "There. Are you satisfied now?"

            "Partly."

            "Why do you insist on me looking at you?"

            Silence for several long moments. Fara looked up at him, and saw a knight, not a commoner. Pepper was going to have him knighted for his deeds, and she knew it was right. This man, this young man… had done so much, much more then what any commoner would have done. He had traveled across the country; brought allies to help… had rescued her… Feeling her heart speed up, she suddenly knew exactly why he was turning away, knew exactly why he acted like he should leave her presence… was he scared of what was happening? Him, scared?

            "So. You see." He said simply and bluntly.

            "Pardon? What do you mean?"

            "You know what, Milady." He gathered the reins to his steed, and proceeded down the hill.

            "Then why won't you tell me?" She called after him.

            He stopped, looking at her over his shoulder. "Because of my honor, Milady. Because of my honor." With that, he proceeded back to the camp, saying nothing more.

            "The Elven army is going to accompany us back until they can split off and return to their territories." Said Peppy, watching Fox crouch by the cooking fire. He wasn't sure how Fox had done it, but he had suddenly appeared by their fire with good venison, as well as fresh fruit and water. "But a few representatives will be accompanying us to the capitol. It is much the same with the Jack of Tear's army, except that the Baron Mirth is staying with us."

            "And me!" Alan suddenly landed right next to him, perching on his toes on the log easily, still holding his violin.

            "Yes, and you." Peppy added, rubbing his chest. "If you continue to startle me like that young man you shall make my heart stop one of these days…"

            "Startle you? Oh, I understand… Perhaps those at the Bayou had simply grown used to me…" He reached out and filched a piece of meat cooking over the fire, not bothered by the heat.

            "Be an act of a God if they did." Falco mumbled, then yelped as he received more bruised ribs from Katt's elbow.

            "You want to be Guild leader at the capitol, you better learn to have some diplomacy!" She snapped at him. "So don't whimper!"

            "Heh. I'm doomed." Falco said in a half-joking voice, making a throat-slashing gesture. "I can't read anyways, so how do you expect me to do contracts."

            "Simple. I will."

            He looked at her. "I was under the impression that you were returning to from whence you came…"

            "Why should I do that?" She wanted to know.

            Fox rubbed his eyes, sitting by the fire.

            "What happened to your cape?" Slippy asked, not even looking up from one of the new books he had gotten from the Jack of Tears. With a mumble and a gesture, happy cries went up form the king's Army as an entire banquet appeared in front of them.

            "Observant. Milady Phoenix talked to me for a moment, and was cold."

            "Ah. Chivalrous."

            Fox, now eating, said nothing.

            The entire group looked at him.

            "I take it something wrong was said?" Bill asked.

            "What do you mean?" Fox, once merely quiet, was now staring to sound all-out irritated.

            "Well, perhaps we thought wrong, but we were under the impression…"

            He brought his head up and looked at everyone. "That a simple woodsman and a princess, who just happens to be the right age to be arranged for a marriage, could be together. If you think that you are not the only one present at this fire without their sanity, beg pardon Alan."

            "Ah sanity is a crippling attribute, anyways." The lizard-bird said grandly, tossing a hand so energetically he almost slapped Peppy. "Sorry!"

            "No harm done." Peppy grumbled, then looked at Fox. "And I suppose you also believe that you should not be knighted as the General plans to request…"

            "No I shouldn't be. I have done nothing to deserve it."

            "Uh, now who's the one missing their sanity?" Falco said, gawking.

            Fox stood. "I am very tired, thus I am retiring early. Please, do not bother me." He retreated to his tent, his group moving out of his way as he did.

            "Methinks we angered him." Slippy said, still not looking up.

            "So what if we did?" Falco asked.

            "We still have over a week's travel time alongside him. I personally would rather travel with a paladin of pleasant disposition."

            "He won't say anything." Said Peppy. "Besides, that week is a good thing. There are still some things he's got to learn… and perhaps we have time to teach him."

            "Why all this trouble to take us back?" Wolf asked, hands on the back of his head, scowling around at the King's army. "Would it not be easier to just kill us?"

            "Firstly, at the request of someone we are in debt to. Secondly, because you have crimes you must answer to." Pepper replied.

            "What crimes?"

            "Yourself, the kidnapping of the princess. Your comrade, the framing and subsequent death of a Knight."

            "You cannot prove either."

            "I don't think I'll need to. And I don't suggest you try to escape today." He gestured for them to mount up, both horses being led and escorted by some of his Knights. "Elves are good shots with arrows, and unicorns run very swiftly."

            "We are not muttonheads, General." Pigma said very stiffly.

            "Do NOT get smart with me, Dengar. McCloud was my friend as well as one of my Knights. You give me one good reason and I will throw you to the Jack of Tear's plague wretches, do you understand?"

            Pigma took one look at the few remaining walking diseases, and winced.

            "I can see you do." Pepper grinned and went to the front of the convoy, swinging astride his mount. "Let's get this army moving." He told one of his aides, who shouted the command. "What of our friends?"

            "Rode ahead sir… there's one now." He added as Falco appeared, galloping up and coming to a halt, backing his horse to pace the General.

            "I had my friends clear us a better path through the mountains sir. We should be able to get past them with no problem."

            "I thank you, Sir Thief."

            "My pleasure sir." Falco wheeled his steed and took off to catch up with his group, which was waiting for the rest of the army at the mountains.

            When they reached the stronghold, it was empty, and a thorough search revealed no more disguised demons. There was room here for the entire convoy to camp, and the stronghold went from being cold, dark, and empty to being full of life and lit up by a multitude of fires and torches. 

            Fox, however, still stayed away from the main group, returning to where he had once sat before, back turned to the convoy, still deeply thoughtful. His unicorn climbed the stairs with no difficulty, munching hay on one of the walls below him.

            "Sir Hare?"

            Peppy turned, and saw Fara standing there, still wearing Fox's cape. "Yes milady?"

            "I… have a rather unusual question…"

            "By all means ask." Hare wove a hand.

            "Why is he always alone?" She looked in the direction of Fox.

            This stopped Peppy. He rubbed his chin, then sighed and shook his head. "I'm not completely sure Milady. We too have noticed it, but we pay it little thought… we have merely assumed that he likes his privacy. Before he decided to fight, he lived alone…"

            "I know." She continued to look at where Fox sat. "Sir, I… I am at a dilemma. He won't talk to me."

            "No?"

            "No. He hasn't all day. When I move to ride beside him, he moves so he does not. You have seen this. Why?"

            He paused, then said slowly, "I have my suspicions, but if anyone tells you it should be him."

            "But if he won't talk to me…"

            "I'll try and help you Milady, but I'm not going to bother him right now. As I have said, I respect his privacy. But I will speak to someone who might be able to reach him."

            "Thank you, sir Hare."

            "I do what I can." He replied.

            "You've become something of a minor legend."

            "Why do you say that General?" Fox didn't even bother looking at his visitor.

            "My men are down there, already spinning tales about you. You defeated an evil sorcerer, McCloud. That in itself is the stuff of legend."

            "Milady Phoenix assisted me, and I could not have done it without her help."

            "Don't worry, she is also in these new tales." Pepper sat down next to him. There was no fire near here except for a single torch, and this high in the mountains, it was cold, with a bitter wind. But Fox, even without his cape, seemed little effected by the wind or by the chill. "Your thoughts stray to the war and to your father, do they not?"

            "They stray to many things." Fox replied.

            "Your father died wrongly, even I will admit to that. And I am sorry I wasn't there to stop it."

            "You could not have stopped it even if you were there, General. The King gave his orders. You would have had to follow them, just like everyone else, or face the consequences."

            Pepper was silent, then shook his head. "I swear, you are your father incarnate."

            "He raised me, he taught me. He trained me. We follow the same codes. I suppose in many ways I followed him as an ideal." His voice was distant.

            "That is what I wanted to discuss with you."

            "Oh?"

            "Concerning the code you follow… I too am familiar with it. You are missing two very important points Fox."

            "I wasn't aware of this." Fox looked at him.

            Pepper stood and paced back and forth. "So recite them. Chûgi and Reigi."

            Fox stared at him. "I follow those points of the code, sir!"

            "Recite them, McCloud."

            He sighed, bowing his head. "Chûgi. Fidelity. Fidelity towards the master or lord, and fatherland. Respect towards parents, brothers and sisters. Assiduousness, steadiness. I follow this part of the code, sir."

            "Reigi."

            "Reigi. Politeness. Respect and love. Modesty and correct etiquette. Formality. Sir, I completed training, I…"

            "Ah." He held up a hand. "Peppy talked to me not long ago. You are breaking both chûgi and reigi."

            "Sir, I…" Fox stood, now completely bewildered.

            "You refuse to speak to Milady Phoenix. She is royalty. Thus, you have broken chûgi. You are lying to yourself, and though you follow every other point of the code, you have broken reigi."

            Fox was stunned stupid. "Does everyone in the entire camp know…"

            "No. In fact I just found out. I'm saying nothing about the given circumstances. All I know is you have broken the codes you follow. And what, sir McCloud, do you intend to do about it?"

            Fox stared at him, and ran a hand down his face. "Oh, for the love of Heironeous…"

            "Not quite." Pepper left.

            Fox blinked once, then sat back down, rubbing his eyes. "My god. Either I break my codes, or I go risk dishonoring myself. So what am I supposed to do?" He moaned to himself, then stood and left the tower, his unicorn following him.

            The armies moved out in the morning, the air cool and crisp. Assorted dragons saw them off, the copper that had originally talked to Falco staying with them, going as an ambassador from his army. He and Falco seemed to have an ability to speak over distances, even if Falco did not raise his voice, and the armies got used to the dragon's booming voice above them and Falco's even replies, which the dragon still seemed to hear.

            Fara sighed, urging her steed forward. She had kept the white charger, refusing to accept a smaller, more delicate Arabian, even if the mare had seemed more suitable to be ridden by a princess. Of course, she had never really cared for stereotypes… Hearing another horse fall even with hers, she turned, and was a little surprised—Fox was now pacing her.

            "May I help you, sir McCloud?" She finally asked.

            "I believe I must apologize to you, Milady." He replied after a long moment. "I was not meaning to avoid you."

            "Yes, you were." She narrowed her eyes at him.

            He paused. "I suppose it depends on how you perceive it. I had my reasons, Milady. And as said, I apologize."

            "Accepted. But what were those reasons?"

            "I wish not to discuss them." He sighed, and shook his head.

            "All right."

            They rode silently side-by-side for the remainder of the day, and no one asked why. Both were glad, content for the companionship they had.

            The armies passed through the ghost town, deciding against camping there even if they had spent most of the day descending from the mountains—what little Fox's party said about the village was enough to warn them away. By evening, some of the Elven army had begun to disappear into the forests they were passing.

            Camp was built in a field, but it was so close to a section of the forest the Elven army retreated there, apparently searching for more comfortable surroundings. Fox followed, leading his unicorn, leaving most of his gear and his steed's tack with his friends.

            Fara glanced around, then followed him on foot, still wearing his cape. The minute she stepped into the forest, she knew she was being watched. "Sir McCloud?"

            "Following me again?"

            She tried to orient on his voice, and failed. "Well, that is… well, yes. Where are you?"

            "Removing the greater portion of my armor and hoping you will try not to find me as I do so."

            She went red.

            Soft laughter echoed to her. "If you are under the impression that I… enjoy wearing armor, then that is where you are wrong. It is hot, heavy, dreadful stuff… and as I will not be fighting anymore, I decided it was time to remove it."

            "Makes sense I suppose. Would you like your cape back?"

            "In a moment, Milady."

            She leaned back on a tree, and after a long moment, Fox's unicorn appeared and made its way over. "How is it sir that your steed is a unicorn?" She smiled, rubbing a hand over the unicorn's neck gently.

            "Pure accident." Was the grumbled reply. "I wasn't exactly expecting it either, however…" He suddenly dropped down from a tree, directly in her line of sight, carrying a pack over his shoulder that looked to be full of his armor. He was back in his woodsman's outfit, though he still had his swords. "She had proved more useful then a knight's charger in more ways then one."

            "I'm sure." She blinked as he walked up, setting the pack down. Reaching up, she unclasped his cape, passing it to him. "I thank you for the use of this."

            "My pleasure, Milady." He easily put it back on. "Is this the only reason you were following me?"

            "No, sir McCloud. I wish to speak to you, as you did not want to discuss matters earlier."

            "I still do not, but if you insist, I have little choice. Come, let us walk." He easily turned, holding a hand out to her.

            She hesitated, then took it. "Are you sure we will not get lost if we stray to far from camp?"

            "I never get lost in the woods, Milady. I have lived in them all my life." He picked the pack back up and held it out to his unicorn. "Would you, please?"

            His unicorn took the strap in her mouth and left the forest, taking his armor back to camp.

            "Where did the elves go?" She asked as they walked. "I see no evidence of a campsite, or even of passage."

            "Most of them have begun returning home, I believe, but a few dozen will be returning to camp in the morning." He brushed a few branches aside and held them so she could pass unbothered.

            She was quiet, then suddenly asked, "What did the General say to you last night?"

            "He told me I was breaking the code I follow, and in some very obscure ways, he was correct. That is what I am trying to correct right now." They broke through some underbrush, standing on the sandy bank of a stream. He released her hand and sat down on a boulder, staring into the water. "And I have corrected it, partly. I don't dare correct the rest."

            "So you'd rather live in violation of your code then correct it?" That bewildered her.

            "Yes."

            "Isn't that, well, a bit dishonorable?"

            "It would be even more dishonorable for me to correct it."

            Silence between them for a long moment. Fox's unicorn came back, lowering its head to take a drink from the stream.

            "Does this have something to do with clearing your father's name? A revenge aspect, perhaps?" She finally asked, sitting down beside him.

            "No. Not in the least. That will be done as soon as we arrive at your father's castle and I speak to him for a moment. I have no wish for revenge. Not anymore. It's done."

            "Then what?" She looked at him curiously.

            He turned his face away. "I can't say, Milady."

            "Why not?" She stood and threw her arms up. "Why do you keep treating me like you can't trust me?"

            "I trust you with my life. But you are royalty."

            "Then forget I am. I'm just another, another hunter. I'm like you are. Tell me, as an equal, what is bothering you. I can try to help you, McCloud. I want to. You rescued me, you saved my life…"

            "I thank you, Milady." He also stood, still not looking at her. "But I do not dare tell you."

            "Why?"

            "Because this last point of the code that I have broken concerns you."

            She stared up at him. He finally met her gaze, eyes serious, but gentle. "Then I of all people should be told."

            "Perhaps." He turned and walked over to his unicorn, rubbing his hands over where its wounds had been, then rubbing a hand along its neck. "I'm not brave, Milady. I cannot bring myself to tell you."

            She stared at him. "You are brave, McCloud. You've fought dragons, black knights, an evil sorcerer."

            "Out of duty. I was driven to. This is a different matter."

            "Blast it!" She rubbed her eyes, walking over to where he stood. He didn't look at her. "Just tell me McCloud."

            He turned his back to her. "I don't want to fall in love with you, and I'm afraid that I will."

            She was stunned silent.

            "The men in my family line love once, and forever. To fall for you would be to end my family line."

            "McCloud, I…"

            "Fox. You might as well call me by my first name." He sighed and bowed his head. "And this is the cost of my code and honor. I was breaking my code by lying to myself about how I was starting to feel. You are royalty, Milady. I am a commoner. Even if I am Knighted, I am still of common blood and unworthy of courting you. Therefore, I strove to avoid you. Unfortunately in the process I only further violated my code. You have no idea how hard it was to stay and wait to leave with the convoy. I nearly left last night, alone with my pain and unease. However, that would have been cowardly. I am not a coward." He turned back to face her. "This has brought me into a rather unpleasant position, for now, I am fighting what could be my fate." He kept his head bowed, refusing to look at her. "For it would be dishonorable to promise you anything, any sort of future, any sort of emotion, when I cannot court you. I cannot even legally love you."

            She stared at him, at this tired, young soldier, and knew everything he said was true. She knew that her parents had been scouring the many courts before the war, been talking to their allies, searching for an ideal prince to arrange her with. When she had been returning home and had stayed at Fox's cabin, she had been returning from meeting with one such suitor, and had been deeply, chronically depressed, because none of the princes her parents hoped to arrange her with even loved her. But now…

            She stepped up to him and lifted his chin so she could see his eyes. He was distressed and unsure, looking at her with a kind of soul-searching desperation.

            "Don't." He said weakly.

            "I just wanted to ask why you're always alone."

            He startled. "What do you mean?"

            "You're always away from the group. Alone. Even away from your friends. Why, Fox?"

            He looked down at her. "Because I am used to being alone. I have been for years. My father was on the crusades, even if he was briefly home. I am used to taking care of myself, and sometimes… sometimes I just wish to be alone again. I am used to it."

            "That isn't necessarily a benefit."

            "No. I am used to being alone. But I am lonely."

            "Then why stay alone?"

            A great sorrow grew in his eyes. "Because I know nothing else, Milady. That is why I am such a good swordfighter, why I can use magic, why I am often so focused… in the past few years I have had precious little to do to entertain myself, so I practiced what my father taught me."

            "Just because you know nothing else is no reason to learn nothing else."

            He stared down at her, the sorrow growing. "Don't make me love you Fara. Please." He turned away from her.

            "I'm not." She stepped to face him again.

            He stepped away. "Please."

            They stared at each other, and he took another step back. "I'll take you back to camp."

            "Fox…"

            "Now." He turned and started to walk away, his unicorn nudging her after him.

            "Fighting fate again?" She asked, falling in step with him.

            "Why do you persist in this?" His voice took on an exasperated, desperate note.

            She cut in front of him. "Do you think you are the only one that's lonely?!"

            They stared at each other again, and he closed his eyes, intense emotion passing over his face.

            "You aren't. Before I met you, I was depressed, I wasn't sure if I even wanted to _live._ I felt a, a connection to you immediately. I _know_ you felt it too. Why won't you admit to it?"

            He broke down in front of her, a single tear running down his cheek. "Because a commoner cannot court a princess, Fara!"

            She was silent, then said, "Then maybe it's time for the laws to change."

            "You know they won't."

            "This is what I know." She stepped forward slowly, lifting her hands to cup his face, then kissed him very slowly.

            He gasped, shocked, then seemed to melt, wrapping his arms around her slowly. A very, very long moment later, he ended it, then asked in a none-to-composed voice, "Why did you do that?"

            "Because it needed to be done."

            He closed his eyes. "Heironeous help me, why did I have to fall in love with you?"

            She startled, or as best she could while she was still held to his chest. "You…"

            "Yes. I do." He let her go and backed away. "And I am going to do and say nothing more concerning this. I'm going to take you back to camp. We have several days travel still ahead of us. You should get some rest."

            She stared at him, and wordlessly followed him back toward camp. "I would much rather you speak of how you felt then you stay silent."

            "I can't. Again, a commoner cannot court a princess. And it would be dishonorable of me to speak of how I feel when nothing can come from it." He paused. "I am very sorry."

            "No reason for you to apologize, Fox. I love you."

            He didn't reply, saying nothing else as they exited the woods and joined the campsite. He only nodded goodbye, leaving to join his friends.

            _'You are escorting me home, are you not?'_ She finally called to him, easily touching his mind.

            _'Yes.'_ He responded.

            _'Will we talk later? We must resolve this…'_

            _'Perhaps. God ye good eve, Milady.'_

            _'Goodnight, Sir McCloud.'_


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Legends and Glory

Section Thirteen: Legends and Glory

            Several days later, the army arrived at the capitol to cheers, the commoners treating their arrival as a parade, calling out questions about the war. The soldiers simply returned as was true: it was over, and they had won.

            Leading the whole parade was a rather unusual assortment. General Pepper, the Baron Mirth, Fara, and Fox's entire group, riding evenly. After several moments, however, General Pepper wove an arm, partly bowing from his seat, and Fox rode in lead, his group falling back into an arrow like formation, the Baron and the General riding behind them. Fara, however, nudged her charger forward to pace Fox wordlessly. They had kept their relationship pleasant over the last few days, but were still uneasy—they weren't sure about what to do about how they felt. Fara talked to him mentally, wanting desperately to act on it, but Fox always said no, and she knew it was for the better.

            The King, having gotten messages and heard the ruckus, was waiting with a full compliment of guards. "Fara! My daughter!" He forgot all protocol and strode forward to meet her when she dismounted. "I was so afraid you would be harmed…"

            "No, father, I'm fine. Andross has been defeated, very possibly forever."

            "So I have heard. The message said that a young soldier is responsible…"

            "Your Majesty?" General Pepper stepped forward. "That is only partly true. It was Fox McCloud who defeated Andross, with your daughter's help against his magic."

            Fox, who was back in armor, had dismounted and quietly stepped forward, holding the reins of his unicorn. "Your Majesty." He dropped to one knee respectfully, bowing his head.

            The King was shocked into silence, even more so when a rag-tag group fell even with him and did the same, including a guild thief, and one of his own knights. "Peppy Hare! You are involved in this?!"

            "Yes sire. I assisted James McCloud's son because I felt it was right. These others also helped us, but it was Fox that led us. It was him that saved your daughter. He also directly defeated Andross, striking the blow that ended Andross' reign of terror." Peppy stood and bowed, dressed in full armor.

            "Indeed. Rise." The King crossed his arms, looking at the six. "A Guild Thief?! A Guild Thief assisted you, General?!"

            "Yes. He is allied to dragonkind, your Majesty. He brought us a dragon army that both defended my lines and attacked the enemy stronghold."

            The King focused on Falco, who grinned, tossing his cape back to reveal his sword. After a beat he pulled it and held it straight above him. Power writhed over it, then cracked out.

            "You called?" The copper suddenly appeared, hovering above them then landing carefully, standing on his tiptoes until people hastily moved. "Ah, your Majesty! Such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance!"

            The King stared up, then allowed a sigh. "I can see there is much we need to discuss."

            "Indeed." The Baron Mirth stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I am the Baron Mirth, resident of the Blood Bayou, leader of the Krewe of Bones, Second in Command to the Jack of Tears, and at this moment, your humble guest." He bowed gracefully. "I am here as a representative from the Bayou. The Jack of Tears wishes a treaty."

            "A great many things that needs to be discussed." The King nodded once, looking pale. "Well, please follow me. I would very much like to hear some details…"

            "Sire?" An aide walked up. "I believe the city wants an announcement. They are waiting in the town square."

            The King rubbed his chin. "Very well then. You," He pointed to the six. "Please accompany me. And please, tell me more as we walk."

            Fox sighed, leaning on a stone wall, listening to the King's speech. He wasn't on the balcony the King spoke from, nobody was but the King was at this point in time.

            "I hate politics." Falco sighed.

            "Yes, I believe most of us do." Said Slippy, who was busily weaving magic through the air to amuse himself. One of the King's Guards had stepped through the magic spiderweb and had ended up electrocuted; since that point on the Guards had given him a wide berth.

            "… We must consider ourselves blessed, because our army has returned to us victorious. The evil army of Andross was very strong, and very nearly defeated our own soldiers…"

            "Drop the drama, your Majesty." Falco grunted. "However true it is…"

            "And only thanks to a small group of fighters, the leader of which had been given my blessing…"

            "What?" Fox lifted his head. "Blessing?"

            "… Our soldiers were able to turn the tide of the war!" The crowd let off deafening cheers, and the King turned. "Sir McCloud, if your group could join me, please?"

            Fox stepped out on to the balcony, his group filing out behind him. The sunlight hit his eyes, but he didn't wince, rather standing next the King and looking out at the crowd.

            "This young soldier is Fox McCloud, the son of well-known-and-honored Knight James McCloud. He took it upon himself to travel to the front lines of the war with his group and help fight the war. Honor them. They are our saviors." The crowd roared, and the King looked at them. "Satisfied, young McCloud?" He asked under his breath.

            "No. And you know why." He replied. "I did not do this for my own honor."

            The King frowned, looking at Fox. Fox stared back, eyes hard and cold.

            "You had my father put to death your Majesty. I have brought the real killer to justice. Clear my father's name. That's all I ever wanted out of this."

            The King nodded, and turned back to the crowd.

            "… and a three day celebration in honor of the returning soldiers." Falco laughed and kicked back. The group was sitting in the count yard of the castle.

            "Be sure to enjoy yourselves." Fox said, suddenly standing. He had been away from the group as usual, sitting cross-legged, apparently meditating. "I am leaving."

            "Fox! This whole thing is for you! Why are you leaving?" Falco followed him, waving his arms as he talked.

            "Because my work here is done, Falco. I am no longer needed. I also have no reason to attend a party." He paused. "The King lied. He didn't give me his blessing. He dishonored me."

            "Sometimes, one must sugar-coat one's words." The King stepped out of the doorway to the courtyard, right in front of Fox.

            "Your Majesty." Fox bowed. "I apologize. Do try to enjoy your celebration. But I must go."

            "Go? Young McCloud, I realize that I have not treated your family line with honor, however…"

            "However?" He paused.

            "I feel there is one thing left to do. If I may have your father's sword."

            Fox undid the sheath from his belt and held it out to the King on his open palms silently. The King took it, looking at it for a long moment, then drawing it.

"Kneel, young McCloud."

            Fox did, falling to one knee and bowing his head, not wincing when he felt the sword blade rest on his shoulder.

            "It is my hope that this will right the rest of the wrongs. Young McCloud, I knight thee Sir McCloud, Highest of the Elites, Battle Mage, and one of my most trusted servants and fighters. Rise."

            Fox wordlessly rose, accepting the broadsword back on open palms, hanging it back at his side. The weight seemed different now; now not only was it his through inheritance, it was his through right.

            "And I would feel… very privileged if you would stay through the victory celebration." The King looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

            Fox bowed. "As you wish, your majesty."

            "You hate cities, don't you?"

            Fox didn't bother turning to face who spoke to him. "No."

            Falco leaned on the balcony next to him, holding a delicate wine glass, breath smelling of the stuff. The King had held a ball, and Fox had spent most of his time avoiding everyone there, talking little to those who approached him and finally escaping to the balcony.

            "You're lying."

            "No. I'm not."

            "You're not telling the whole truth then."

            "Perhaps. I'm just uncomfortable here. There are too many people, too much noise."

            "Best you move on, then… but, perhaps not."

            "Not?" Fox looked at him.

            "Much as you love your solitude, Fox, the people here love you. You've become an ideal, a hero. They need that ideal very badly now. Times are changing at such a pace that few can keep up. They need to see that someone like them is keeping up, and as you count yourself to be a commoner, you're just that person."

            "Have your finger on the very pulse of the city, don't you?"

            "Yes, I do." Falco smiled a bit.

            There was silence for a very long moment, or as silent as it could become, with the Ball going on only a few feet behind them. Fox ignored it.

            "Evening, gentlemen." Katt joined them, now in new robes. "Falco, shall we?" She inquired.

            "Not inviting Fox?"

            "Someone wants to speak to him." She replied, and towed the thief off.

            "How true." Said a new voice after a long moment.

            "Your Highness." Fox said, turning and bowing.

            Fara now wore an exquisite dress, moving gracefully onto the balcony. "Sir McCloud." _'I believe that we both know that honorifics are no longer necessary.'_

            _'Perhaps. Why is it you insist on speaking to me in this fashion?' Fox turned his back to the Ball again, Fara walking up and leaning on the balcony next to him._

            _'Because I can say what I wish and no one can listen. We must speak, Fox.'_

_            'What of?'_

She looked at him, and all the hope, desperation, and loneliness in the world was carried in that one look. He looked back, gentle, caring, unsure. _'You know what of.'_

_            'Yes. I do.'_

"Sir McCloud, I'd like to speak to you. In private. May I suggest the courtyard?"

            He nodded, and they silently left the ballroom floor, going down a level and into the courtyard. It was empty now, though torches and magic lights lit up the gardens and pathways.

            Fara paced for a moment, then turned to him. "May I speak freely?"

            "Of course." He did a partial bow, sweeping his arm. "You are Royalty. I don't think anyone could deny you that."

            She closed her eyes. "Fox, for a moment, forget I'm a princess. Forget I'm of royal blood." She slowed her pacing, thoughtful. "Fox, I… I'm not sure what to do. I know how I feel. I know it's true, that nothing could end it. And I know I shouldn't feel this way." She stopped, bowing her head. "I know I've felt this way since I met you, almost. And I want to know, would give anything to know, what you think and feel."

            "You know what I think and feel, Fara."

            "Then say it. Tell me it again." She stepped up to him. He looked graceful in the clothes he wore, in-style high-class clothing, a touch of elf in the tailoring, but it wasn't really him. She knew that if he had his choice, he would be far from here, dressing simply, living simply, as he had for years. "Tell me that all my hope isn't for nothing."

            He slowly let out a breath, stepping back from her, and closed his eyes. "Ever since I've met you, I've been scared. I knew the minute you spoke to me that you were the one I had been figuratively waiting for all my life. And I knew that you were someone I would quite possibly never speak to or even see again." He sighed and shook his head. "Destiny is a peculiar thing. The moment I heard that you had been spirited away, I knew it was time to start living as I had been trained to, start living the life of a warrior." He looked down at her, into her eyes. "Of course I told myself it was for another reason. That I was trying to clear my father's name. True enough I suppose, but not correct. I didn't want to live in his shadow. I wanted to not only have his name honored, but have mine honored as well, and destiny called. Now, with my tasks complete…"

            She watched in a combination of awe and shock as his calm aura disappeared, and suddenly she was looking at someone so emotional, so charged with energy he seemed to be a completely different person. He smiled a bit, and suddenly tossed an arm out and up, as if to touch the stars, as if to be among them.

            "Perhaps now it is time to stop living what I have been taught." He stepped away, gait suddenly easy, relaxed, unrestrained. "And just live."

            "I'm afraid I don't understand."

            "Neither do I. Isn't it wonderful?" He threw out his arms and laughed, then was suddenly calm and contained again. "I am but a hopeless romantic, Milady, an eager, untaught lover whose devotion you yourself enslave. I am trained in the ways of Bushido. I journeyed across the country to assist in a war against a madman. And I will tell you now, that I will love you until the stars cease to burn. Even though I know that this is forbidden by proper protocol, I also know that it is impossible to deny what I feel now." One stride, and suddenly he was right in front of her, almost nose-to-nose with her. "Because I think this was meant to be."

            She had been silently listening to this monologue, eyes wide at this suddenly careless, energetic admittance, staring up at him.

            He grew even calmer, suddenly the Samari-trained knight again, not showing a shadow of who he had just been. "I apologize for my outburst. That is how I behave without my discipline. It seemed most appropriate to show you who I am under this façade." The bright, undisciplined smile came back into his eyes. "So. Now you know how I feel, your Highness. Are you satisfied now?"

            She took a step back and almost fell onto a stone bench, repeating his words over and over in her head. "That wasn't quite what I expected, I admit."

            "Always expect the unexpected. Which of course makes the unexpected the expected, which means there is no unexpected to expect… and so on!" Another form came out of nowhere and landed on the bench right next to her, cape flapping, holding a violin.

            "Alan!" Fox scolded as Fara yelped, hand on her chest. "You know better then to startle a young lady like that! Now apologize!"

            "M'lady." Alan grabbed Fara's hand and kissed it before he sprung up. "Why aren't you at the party?" He looked at Fara. "And why haven't you kissed her?" He looked at Fox.

            "Alan!" Fox looked like he wanted to slap the insane man upside the head.

            "You have refreshingly different friends, Fox." Fara said, starting to laugh, unable to help herself.

            "Go to the party, Alan. We will be along shortly." Fox assured the musician.

            "If you say so." Alan sprang off, dancing a jig, playing his violin, and running at the same time.

            "Blood Bayou, am I correct?" Fara looked to Fox, standing.

            "Yes. Krewe of Mangroves to be exact."

            "He fits it."

            "He knows that fact well and loves it." He shook his head. "He revels in his insanity. Perhaps it helps him with his music."

            "Perhaps."

            They spent several idle minutes looking at each other, then Fara slowly stepped into him, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. He lifted his arms, draping them slowly around her waist.

            "You'll leave the city soon enough, won't you?"

            "I'm afraid so."

            "But you're coming back, aren't you?"

            "I wouldn't have it any other way, m'lady. After all, do I not have a princess to court?" The bright, uncontained smile returned, showing in his voice.

            She slowly returned the smile, leaning her weight into him. "Yes, I believe you do."

            The sounds of the ball drifted to them, but they ignored it for the time being, content as they were, standing as one under a crescent moon.


End file.
